Monday night’s Tampa Bay Rays game was so boring. I don’t say this to pooh-pooh our beloved Rays, but facts are facts. The game was a big, fat snoozer of a loser.
Naturally, I turned focus away from athletics and toward the Kane’s Furniture strikeout counter. Do you know the one? It’s that row of aquamarine neon Ks at Tropicana Field, a new letter lighting up with each strikeout. When the Ks reach 10, the whole room gets free tacos and chips from Tijuana Flats, much like Oprah distributing cars.
It took practically the entire game Monday, but the 10th strikeout finally happened while I was trudging back from the bathroom in a minor depressive state. My husband texted, “TACCOOOSSSSS.”
Now, there was a time in life when I would have ignored this tacopportunity. One, it’s kind of embarrassing, like wrestling a spring breaker for the last Señor Frogs tank top. Two, getting the free taco involves driving to the store and navigating the Leo Seafoam 5-Piece Leather Triple Power Reclining Living Rooms to find the service desk. Once you acquire the voucher, you must commit to redeeming it in seven days, and even then there are more rules. No steak, carnitas or specialty tacos! Please, have some decorum, do not ask for the double-stack cheesy shell!
In sum, the process is as simple as trying to keep homeowners insurance in Florida. But I have been thinking lately that it’s time to dispose of coolness, to buckle down and do the work of savings. It’s time to wring out every last penny and promotion from this greater metropolitan region before it wrings us out, you hear? It’s time to get in there, to get messy, to get these deals! We ride to Kane’s at dawn!
Americans love to wedge ourselves into a pickle by starting traditions that are impossible to break: Groundhog Day, the presidential turkey pardon, tipping. While workers unequivocally deserve to be paid fairly, going to a restaurant without, say, a voucher from Kane’s Furniture is increasingly out of reach for many.
We’re out here ordering the $12.99 turkey burger only to be handed a bill for $3,500. An examination of the fine print brings more questions. Is there a service fee? An, um, “stabilization” fee? An employee appreciation fee? If these proceeds go through the restaurant owner first, can we trust that the money makes it to the staff? Should we still tip on top of that? Should we go into debt to avoid asking clarifying questions at the end of a pleasant meal? Is guac extra?
A free taco is a silly thing in the scope of larger conversations about survival, but I have decided it’s symbolic, a move toward taking control of this spendy ship. Though everyone would like a simple policy answer to ease pricing, no one thing is going to fix it. Inflation is slowing, dropping to its lowest level in three years, and the Fed is probably on the verge of dropping interest rates. All amazing factoids for Astros fans to mansplain in the taco line at Kane’s.
But the people have power, too, power to declare we’ve had enough of tipping 20% on a $4 bottle of water. This must be a community effort. If a whole bunch of us decide to turn into Depression-era grandparents, trade breakfast coupons from the ValPak, find ways to maximize free beer from Busch Gardens, download the Winn-Dixie app, keep turning out for 813 Day and 727 Day and Free Museum Day, show we’re willing to put in the annoying work necessary to bring rampant usage of coupons back in style, maybe — maybe! — we can together change tides.
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Explore all your optionsIn this spirit, I sojourned to Kane’s on Tuesday after the game and was immediately approached by an excitable furniture salesperson. “I AM JUST LOOKING,” I said, as if I was 13 and trying to illegally buy Old Milwaukee. I browsed, pretending to be interested in the many rows of rhinestone dressers and headboards while making my way to the desk.
“I’m here for my tacos,” I said, thrusting my ballpark tickets forward. I then proffered every bit of my personal information, trading my identity to save approximately $5.99 on a fiesta experience. Worth it? I don’t know. But in this tricky economy, we must all play ball.
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