While on a late-night grocery run, after watching the Lakers lay a brick in Game 6 against the Boston Celtics, I got that cheap, tawdry urge that can only be sated by fast food or paying a hermaphrodite for sex. However, I am a weird person in that I need tomatoes on my fast food. In fact, I always tend to ask for extra tomatoes.

I first stopped by Burger King, as I read some news release that BK had returned tomatoes to their menu items, including their popular Whopper™ sandwich. However, the lady behind the counter took an almost exculpatory glee in denying my tomato request, as they indeed did not have tomatoes in the kitchen.

Next was McDonald’s, with the same negative result. Arby’s had their disclaimer plastered on the door of the restaurant, so I didn’t even have to go in.

Taco Bell, however, had tomatoes.

So there you go. Taco Bell, I may not again grace your sterile environs for some time, but don’t take it personally, as I have a newfound respect for you. Yes, your ground meat appears to have been extracted from an industrial barrel-sized can, and close to 43% of the ingredients of your 7-Layer Burrito may not actually exist in any natural state, but when I look back on the Spring of 2008, the Season of the Great Tomato Scare, of $4/gas, of the epochal $5 Submarine Sandwich War, I will always think fondly of Taco Bell, my very own transgender hooker.