Live and let live, that’s my motto.
At least, that was my motto until this week when I read a press released titled, “Taco Bell Says ‘I Do’ to Weddings.” Now my motto is, “Don’t get married at Taco Bell.”
These are crazy times. Studies show productivity is nosediving as an endless barrage of political news digs deep into our psyches. We can’t focus. We can’t sleep. We can’t stop shouting at our screens. We can’t mute the drumbeat of fear and loathing that pounds inside our heads like a deranged Keith Moon solo.
If you woke up tomorrow to breaking news about the onset of World War III, you would not be shocked. And that is shocking. The speed in which the far-fetched has morphed into the plausible is staggering and, before I bore you any further, let’s get back to Taco Bell’s new romantic venture.
Starting this summer, and targeting couples that yearn for a destination wedding but apparently can’t afford Fiji or Jamaica, the chain’s flagship outlet in Vegas is offering up a chapel. For $600 — or roughly 207 Gordita Supremes — couples hankering for a “craveable matrimonial experience” can order “the Wedding Package” off the menu. This includes “a full ceremony,” the “officiant” and a “Taco Bell garter, bow tie, Sauce Packet wedding bouquet, Just Married T-shirts, Taco Bell champagne flutes and a Cinnabon Delights Wedding Cake.”
What a glorious day it shall be as you and your partner swap vows – “ … for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until high cholesterol do us part” — in the romantic stench of Cheesy Potato Burritos. What a day to remember as a man in a Chihuahua costume snaps photos and the PA system cranks out jingles and loved ones assemble near the condiments station to pelt you with black beans.
“I’d like to make a toast,” the best man will say, fighting sudden cramping while hoisting a flute of Mountain Dew. “May your love shine like a Nachos Bellgrande Combo and may each day bring the comfort of a Breakfast Quesadilla.”
Comfort. That is the key to this soft taco gambit and why other fast food companies are also veering into the business of love in this age of Trump.
Earlier this month, Domino’s launched a “Wedding Registry.” Why bother with Williams-Sonoma when you can sign up for pizza? Meanwhile, for Valentine’s Day, some Burger King locations offered an “18+ Adult Meal” that included two Whoppers, fries and a “romantic toy.”
Imagine if a Happy Meal came with a satin blindfold or scalp massager.
Are these good ideas? No. These are terrible ideas. You should not get married at a Taco Bell anymore than you should get your appendix removed at McDonald’s. Your Aunt Bernice should not be forced to choose between a Chicken Alfredo or a Pepperoni Feast when contemplating a gift for your big day. And my God, do you really want to be intimate with an inanimate object that was handled by the same teens manning the deep fryer or drive-thru window?
You can understand why the fast food giants want to exploit these turbulent times. There’s never been more demand for comfort and that includes comfort food. It’s the same reason there is a spike in ads for slippers and mattresses. But the challenge for the quick-cuisine industry is to develop marketing campaigns that, unlike the past, thrive in a period of cultural instability.
It would be wildly insensitive to toss out a “Make A Run For The Border” slogan when hundreds are literally running for the border.
And that’s why this seemingly unholy union between fast food and enduring love, this nexus between empty calories and life stages, is so welcome in 2017. We desperately need to find common ground and now we have it.
No matter your politics, diet or relationship status, we can all agree these rank as the worst ideas we’ve ever heard. These ideas are so awful, they have the power to unite us. Take my hand. Let us be friends and lament the Taco Bell garter.
So don’t stop now, fast food titans. Keep grilling up and bagging these idiotic ideas. How about breastfeeding classes at Dairy Queen? Or divorce services at Subway? I know, a special partnership between Wendy’s and Birks: a 24-carat onion ring. Or a box of customized Timbits that can serve as bomboniere.
It can’t really be the end of days if we have time to choke down this supersized insanity.
vmenon@thestar.ca
vmenon@thestar.ca
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