I consider myself a bit of an Average Joe. I prefer wearing shorts that double as swim trunks, loose fitting cotton-blend t-shirts, my Bud Light cold (give or take the “Dilly Philly”) and my coffee hot.
That also means that I like my fast food in a box and for $5 or less. Bonus points if it includes a Baja Blast and cinnamon twists.
Those that know me best would probably describe me as a Taco Bell Connoisseur. If I had to put some sort of number on it, I would guess that I’ve probably eaten Taco Bell, on average, once a week since I was old enough to scream “Yo Quiero Taco Bell”.
Unlike most little kids, I didn’t want McDonald’s after baseball practice. Screw the Beanie Baby toy or their stupid Hot Wheels. I wanted a Taco Pizza and some soft shell tacos (no lettuce).
Taco Bell is not just something I love. It’s something I crave. Unfortunately, I’m serious.
So, as a nearly 30-year old who spent his heyday roaming around Chicago late in the morning, I’ve had a few moments at the Wrigleyville Taco Bell.
I’ve seen fights between friends (waiting in long lines after 27-beers is hard). I’ve seen fights between bums (Someone may or may not have thrown a box of tacos between a few of them with a $5 bill stuffed inside.). I’ve also seen some of the nicest, drunkest people in the world. All of which are simpatico and peaceful hoping to get their hands on a big pile of questionable meat stuffed into gorditas and flour taco shells.
I loved going to Wrigleyville’s Taco Bell. I loved making it the pit stop at the end of the night (usually after Merkle’s). I loved hashing over the night while sharing a Nacho’s Bell Grande with my buddies that made it past closing time.
It was a staple of being on the North Side.
It’s extremely saddening that a whole lot of stupid Chicagoans won’t be able to create their own memories at the infamous TB. The only thing they’ll be able to do now is climb a fake freaking mountain:
The planned redevelopment of the infamous Taco Bell across from Wrigley Field is moving forward with a new design anchored by San Francisco-based climbing gym Planet Granite.
Denying the people a national delicacy is one thing. But denying the people a national delicacy in favor of some San Francisco Globo Gym is unforgivable.