First McRib of the season.
I know that I'm a horrible bad human, but when I looked up at the McDonalds sign and saw the McRib offered at a ridiculously reasonable price I was inexorably and inevitably drawn into the ever-beeping culinary disaster that is the worlds largest fast-food chain. Sword nearby, beads of sweat standing out beneath my Fez. The dude ordering ahead of me gave the gladius a nervous glance and got out of my way.
"I'll be with you in a moment." said the demure attendant and busied herself making a McFlurry.
The anticipation was high as I didn't see any display pictures in the store itself. Could I have imagined it? Was this some twisted joke? If so...heads would roll. Eventually the McFlurry was ready and she shoveled it off to the dude regarding my sword with curiosity sugar coated with terror. The McDonalds girl, pausing for a moment to take in the crazy-eyed trenchcoat wearing misanthrope opposite her, asked for my order.
"A McRib please." I requested, trying my best to subdue the excitement and fear in my voice.
"A McRib?" she asked.
"Yes." I said, fearing the worst.
"Uh...I don't know how to key that." she said.
That's not my problem I thought, relieved with the knowledge that there was at least the option. The hope.
"Just the sandwich?" she asked.
It's not a sandwich you crazy girl...it's a McRib, and yes, that's all I want. I paid the lady and waited patiently. In short order I was on the street. McRib in hand. I know it's just a pressed reconstitued pork patty. That's not what gets me going. So much BBQ sauce...so zesty and tangy. So many onions and pickles prodiving me with a crunchy contrast to my soft, warm quasi-meat. I consumed the hot sandwich on my cold walk home, and stopped myself short of licking the containter free of it's precious sauce...barely. I know I'm a bad man for loving them so...but at least I know what I'm eating for the next couple weeks.
"I'll be with you in a moment." said the demure attendant and busied herself making a McFlurry.
The anticipation was high as I didn't see any display pictures in the store itself. Could I have imagined it? Was this some twisted joke? If so...heads would roll. Eventually the McFlurry was ready and she shoveled it off to the dude regarding my sword with curiosity sugar coated with terror. The McDonalds girl, pausing for a moment to take in the crazy-eyed trenchcoat wearing misanthrope opposite her, asked for my order.
"A McRib please." I requested, trying my best to subdue the excitement and fear in my voice.
"A McRib?" she asked.
"Yes." I said, fearing the worst.
"Uh...I don't know how to key that." she said.
That's not my problem I thought, relieved with the knowledge that there was at least the option. The hope.
"Just the sandwich?" she asked.
It's not a sandwich you crazy girl...it's a McRib, and yes, that's all I want. I paid the lady and waited patiently. In short order I was on the street. McRib in hand. I know it's just a pressed reconstitued pork patty. That's not what gets me going. So much BBQ sauce...so zesty and tangy. So many onions and pickles prodiving me with a crunchy contrast to my soft, warm quasi-meat. I consumed the hot sandwich on my cold walk home, and stopped myself short of licking the containter free of it's precious sauce...barely. I know I'm a bad man for loving them so...but at least I know what I'm eating for the next couple weeks.
Comments
I've never had a McRib myself, but I've always been fascinated by the fact they've managed to shape it into the appearance of ribs, without any actual ribs. Strangely compelling.
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