No, I Want The McSack Not

It is stiLL McRib season but I show up at the busy lower IQ lunch run for the school kids. I try to teLL the clerk that I want my order to eat at the restaurant, but she is just barely out of hearing range by maybe a half inch (?) and doesn't respond. The young lady at the neXt register teLLs me, "Everything is to go during the lunch run." And I ask her to simply put my McRib on the TRAY that is right in front of me, no sack, please. Her response is, "I'm sorry, sir, we can't not do that."

Yes, a double negative.

I had to work reaLLy hard to keep from laughing during this episode.

When The Sack arrives 15 seconds later I carefuLLy take the McRib package out of the sack, place it on my tray and ask her politely not to throw away the useless sack. She complies for at least the three seconds until I turn around to leave. But when I turned around a second later to check it was no longer in her hand.

The Lost McRib

[Day Two of McRib Hunting Season]

I decide to do an eXperiment with a McRib sandwich. I don't like the giant pieces of white onion that come with the sandwich, so I decide to swap them with diced purple onions from my own kitchen.

I take my diced purple onions to McDonalds and order a McRib with no onions, but I teLL them that I want the usual pickes.

The process of getting a speciaLLy made McRib with less on it takes over twice as long as usual. But I survive.

I open it up at my table and the onions are stiLL on it like normal, BUT the pickles are not on the sandwich.

So I take it back to the ordering counter and eXplain the situation to my clerk. She takes it back to the kitchen area and eXplains what needs to be done. The tiny short chef appears confused and starts to walk away from me, but then someone says something to her and she throws my incorrect McRib sandwich in the TRASH can! My heart stops and sinks at the tragic loss.

So they give me the new improved pickled sandwich, this time a little faster than before. I get to my table and open it up - yes, the pickles are there, two of them, no onions, BUT this time there is only a tiny amount of BBQ sauce.

So I return the sandwich to the ordering counter and beg them to not throw away my precious McRib this time, but only add some BBQ sauce. So about 5 people gather around a dipping vat as my meat is twirled in a BBQ bath. One person twirling my meat while four watch. Five - if you include me. The sides of the BBQ bath are transparent so I can see it rotated about six times.

Yea! I finaLLy get my McRib to the table so I can put the purple onions on it. The only problem is they put so much sauce on the sandwich that probably 1/3 of my tiny onions ran away with the eXcessive sauce.

Badder luck neXt time.

Future Experiment: Jalapeño Peppers on a McRib

Sub No Way

I was looking forward to finally getting to go to the brand new Subway restaurant in our town, the only one we have, after the old one had been deactivated, torn down to make way for a gigantic pharmacy. The inactive bowling alley was destroyed too in the long overdue renovation at that very busy intersection of Borger, near the very center of the entire Texas panhandle.

But when I entered the sparkly fresh restaurant anxious for my Bacon Chicken Ranch on Something Random Picked Bread after at least four months without one, I was met with bizarre loud rock music and a line long of humans waiting. Plus that line now went from right to left instead of left to right, so I left the building after just a few seconds, maybe twelve, certainly less than thirty, hungry and irritated. The thought of eating in their environment glassed-in-box-on-display watching cars zoom by at this new vehicular busy location that used to be another glass smaller box ATM suddenly seemed totally bizarre and unnatural. I don't know which of those factors bothered me the most, or if they just quickly summed up as unacceptable, crossing a threshold, a virtual pressure relief valve, or rupture disc. Leave! Now! Go!

It was bad enough that I had just been to McDonald's and they didn't have any more McRibs or that my favorite local diner was closed on that day. No grilled chicken sandwich with bacon misery. There is always that horrible seasonal moment when you discover that McD suddenly rips away your favorite item, no, not just your favorite, your ONLY reason to ever go there, McRibs. Taste bud abuse. I hate you again McD, you evil giant food monster. Isn't that what God s'pposedly used to make woman in the Garden of Eden (?), no that was just a borrowed rib, not a barbequed rib; no bread, sauce, meat, dill pickle and onions. If he would have used a McRib then maybe women would suddenly, and magically, disappear and reappear at totally random times. Interesting thought.

It was a rare moment when I was hungry and I had absolutely no desire to cook anything plus the thought of creating dirty dishes annoyed me even farther. I think I finished the day with a bowl of breakfast cereal or a simple sandwich at home, I don't remember now what I had, just nothing fancy, with a side order of despair, sad taste buds that wanted to file for divorce from the rest of my body, and emptiness.