The Truth About Taco Tuesday
A tale of lawyers, tortillas, and the corporate liberation of a phrase too greasy to be owned.
Hello Useless Knowledge Nation!
Let’s get one thing straight: Taco Tuesday didn’t start in Mexico. It started in America—deep-fried in marketing cheese and served with a side of lawsuits.
For decades, “Taco Tuesday” was less a cultural phenomenon and more a legal landmine. The phrase was actually trademarked in 1989 by a small Wyoming-based chain called Taco John’s. That’s right—a regional fast food joint with fewer locations than most gas station Slurpee machines had the balls to lock up America’s favorite weekday fiesta.
Imagine the absurdity. You could eat tacos on Tuesday. You could post about them. But if you were a restaurant trying to advertise “Taco Tuesday”? You might get a nasty letter from Taco John's legal team threatening to fold you into a crunchy cease-and-desist combo.
Enter Taco Bell.
The clown prince of pseudo-Mexican fast food. The late-night enabler. The stoner’s cathedral. In 2023, they looked at this madness and decided, “Enough.” Not out of charity—don’t be naïve. This was a PR stunt soaked in sour cream and sprinkled with social justice-lite seasoning. But it worked.
Taco Bell filed a petition to the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, arguing that no one company should be able to own a phrase as beloved and ubiquitous as “Taco Tuesday.” Their statement read like a manifesto, claiming to fight for "the right of everyone to say Taco Tuesday—because it belongs to the people." Cue the mariachi band.
They weren’t wrong. The phrase had long passed into the collective American subconscious. It’s what we say when we need an excuse to drink on a Tuesday and pretend we have a culture. It’s used by elementary schools, dive bars, vegan food trucks, and your cousin who sells MLM spice mixes. It’s not a slogan. It’s a ritual.
And in the end? Taco John’s surrendered. Like a stale hard shell cracking under pressure, they gave up the fight in all states except New Jersey (because of course Jersey held out). Taco Tuesday was free. Taco Bell celebrated with a campaign, giveaways, and even a brief collab with LeBron James—because this is America and no revolution is complete without a celebrity endorsement.
So the next time you’re chomping into a greasy, overstuffed tortilla on a Tuesday, just remember: You’re not just eating. You’re participating in a post-litigious, multinational celebration of linguistic liberation. And it’s all thanks to a fake Mexican chain with a purple bell and the soul of a corporate outlaw.
Bottom line:
You can’t trademark a cultural phenomenon.
Especially not one that goes down best with cheap tequila and regret.
Now I’m off to Casa Vega for lunch—dim lights, strong margaritas, and yes, the kind of tacos that make you believe in God, tequila, or both.
Bonus Useless Knowledge:
The phrase “Taco Tuesday” was first documented in print back in 1973 in a Rapid City Journal ad, years before Taco John’s tried to own it.
LeBron James once tried to trademark "Taco Tuesday" himself in 2019, but the USPTO denied him—saying the phrase was too common. Even King James couldn’t crown it.
Taco Bell filed their petition on May 16, 2023—also known as National Piercing Day. Coincidence? Probably. But fitting.
Throughly enjoyed this!