Analysis:

This story that appeared in the "Your Life" section of the GR Press is based upon a promotional stunt between the fast food chain Taco Bell and Major League Baseball. Why do you think that the Grand Rapids Press would pay one of their reporters to drive around town with a Press photographer and eat tacos from Taco Bell? How does this story pass as journalism? Would the Press pay a reporter to spend as much time driving to 10 different fast food restaurants and ask the workers about their wages and working conditions? The GR Press may argue that this is meant as a humorous entertainment piece, but how does that inform the community about what entertainment options are available to citizens of West Michigan?

Story:

A free taco is tempting.

Ten free tacos in three hours? Equally hard to resist, but much harder to digest.

Allow me to explain. Last week, a certain fast-food chain announced it would give everyone in America a free taco if a player stole a base during the World Series. A base was stolen (thanks, Boston Red Sox rookie Jacoby Ellsbury) and, from 2 to 5 p.m. Tuesday, free tacos were served.

Because the company earned tons of free publicity for this giveaway, I'll avoid using its name more than necessary, other than to say there are more than a dozen Taco Bell locations in the Grand Rapids area. My self-appointed mission was to stop at 10 and eat a free taco within the allotted time.

Dishonest? Yeah. Unhealthy? Most likely. Gross? No doubt. But hey, free tacos.

So, with a map in hand and a gut full of pre-emptive Pepto Bismol, I set out with a photographer to claim 10 times my share of free Crunchy Seasoned Beef Tacos. Call it early trick-or-treating, only with more meat and lettuce than usual.

I expected Hannah Montana levels of hysteria at each franchise, with lines spilling out the doors, but was perplexed to discover business-as-usual crowds and zero fanfare.

That was probably a conscious decision on the company's part.

Once you've committed to giving away 300 million tacos, it's understandable you would want to keep it quiet on the big day.

That would explain why the promotion happened during the normally slow late afternoon. It also would explain a lot of the eye-rolling from employees when I strode proudly to each counter and demanded a free taco and nothing else. Apparently, the ploy was to lure customers into the restaurants and get them to buy other items. Sorry, not interested.

At any rate, it's too early to guess whether the promotion was successful. I would say it probably was, in terms of buzz. When was the last time you heard people chatting about fast-food tacos?

I wasn't the only person with the franchise-hopping idea.

At my ninth stop, I met Chad, a 24-year-old Grand Rapids resident who wouldn't give his last name. The 44th Street location was his fourth stop of a planned six.

"I just have to," Chad said. "You gotta take advantage of things like this."

And take advantage we did.

The company's Web site had some threatening language about managers being able to turn away customers if there was reason to believe they already received their free taco. By the time I was almost done, the green tint to my face should have been all the tip-off they needed.

But I persevered. By 4:45 p.m., I had a sore gut to prove I consumed way more tacos than any human ever should.

After the fact, I came across donateyourtaco.com. Visitors to the site who didn't want their Crunchy Seasoned Beef could submit their name, and the site would ask Taco Bell to donate the value of the unclaimed tacos (77 cents apiece) to the American Red Cross.

Great idea. But, since I found the site too late, I'm hoping someone will make a charitable donation to Buy-Troy-Some-More-Pepto-Bismol.com.

I asked a co-worker if she cared to join me on the excursion, and she said, "My body is a temple." I guess that would make mine something like a garage, or a shed.