![]() “Welcome to the Bell hotel! Let’s get you checked in,” says the man behind the front desk.Įxecution is precise. Maybe he had an earpiece? Or did he just know? The lobby door swings open as we exit the car and walk inside under an awning of multicolor streamers. ![]() Without a clipboard in hand he waves us along. “They’re going to want full control of their image.”Īs we pull past the Bell sign and into the valet area a man asks if we were checking in. “Do you think it’s going to be the same hotel staff?” she asks.īut I had already seen things: the hot sauce packet cutting ceremony, the silent disco, the nail salon. We drove here from Natalie’s home in Orange County, hypothesizing on the way what was in store for us. “I see it! There!” I shriek as the hotel sign comes into sight. Again the story appeared everywhere along with screenshots of Bell hotel dreams shattered. The rooms started at $169 and sold out in less than two minutes. ![]() She was right, that’s exactly what it felt like. “Congratulations! #tacobellhotel #goldenticket”. Comments continued throughout the day - “Lucky!”, “Literal bullshit!” - as well offers to buy me out in my DMs and retweets, including one from the woman behind it all, Taco Bell’s former Global Chief Brand Officer, Marisa Thalberg. The response I was looking for began rolling in in the form of likes within seconds. “Today will forever be known as the day I got a room at the hotel” along with a screenshot of my reservation. The majority of the office didn’t understand or take part in my elation so I did the best thing I could think of - I tweeted. I GOT IT! Yelling, arms in the air, I stood up from my desk and started to pace around, maniacally. Card in front of me I selected Sunday, populated my info and submitted. Hitting refresh after this seemed futile and my hopes sank with every click. Feeling that most people would jump for the first day available (Thursday), or the obvious Friday and Saturday, I’d opt for Sunday night.Ĭlicking on the reservation button as soon as it appeared led to a screen with a message saying “I knew we were popular, but this is a bit much” that urged users to keep their “crossed fingers on that refresh button”. Like the other Bellheads lucky enough to snag one of the 70 rooms available, I sat at my computer refreshing the browser incessantly in the minutes before reservations opened. I didn’t come to the Bell as an official member of the media. And at the Bell, excess is ubiquitous, subtlety nonexistent. It’s home of the Doritos Locos Taco, the Quesarito, Fourthmeal. Taco Bell is rooted in superlatives, its slogan is Live Mas. But as the first posts began to appear on check-in day there were no sad sandwiches or FEMA tents in sight - the feed was full of sauce packet room keys and branded bikes, all adorned with a cache of Taco Bell Hotel Instagram Stories GIFs. No piece hit the target.įearing the hotel could go the way of the Fyre Festival, I tracked the event’s official hashtag (#tacobellhotel) leading up to the launch, hoping to get a sneak peek, looking out for snags. In 1996 it claimed to buy the Liberty Bell, and it 2001 it dropped a 40’ x 40’ target out into the South Pacific, saying that if a piece of the Mir space station struck it, every person in the United States could get free Taco Bell taco. Bed pillow? Natch.Īccording to the statement, The Bell was going to be a “destination inspired by tacos and fueled by fans” and promised that “everything from guest rooms to breakfast and poolside cocktails will be infused with a Taco Bell twist, making this the flavor-filled getaway of 2019.” Prospective guests could sign up for an email list to receive more info about reservations to the limited-time only “tacoasis.” Later it was announced that the hotel would only be open for four nights.Ī marketing novice by no means, Taco Bell has pulled various publicity stunts throughout the years. Renderings showed a colorful graphic backdrop featuring desert staples like palm trees and chaparral mixed in with taco shells, slushy cups and Taco Bell logos behind a pool filled with hot sauce packet floating mattresses. CBS, Los Angeles Times, USA Today, Fox - you name it, it was there. The May 2019 announcement of the hotel was startling - a hotel? Really? - and the item was picked up by seemingly every news outlet. Big Gay Andrew, my friend Natalie, about 100 Taco Bell acolytes - or Bellheads as I like to think of them - and I, are surrounding a pool in Palm Springs on the last night of operation at the Bell: A Taco Bell Hotel and Resort. It’s Sunday evening and he’s just scored an Xbox, three of four in total that are handed out in a bastardized game of bingo called Tacos. The crowd around the pool erupts in cheers and applause. “This is a real fire festival!” screams self-proclaimed Big Gay Andrew as he takes the stage to claim his prize.
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