Just the name itself can illicit a response. Go ahead, say to someone “McRib.” If they say “Huh? What?” say it again but in a loud clear voice. Their response is either “Eww” or “It’s Back?! Where! TELL ME!” and sometimes “I am from an alien world and do not know what you are talking about.” Personally I LOVE the McRib. It belongs in the Pantheon of Historic Sandwiches alongside the Monte Cristo, Pork Roll Egg and Cheese and the local favorite “The Italian Stallion” from Jimmy’s Foodstore. But the McRib is more than a mere sandwich. It is a sensory experience. Its look, simple and streamlined. The tangy smell of BBQ sauce arouses the nostrils. As you lift it to your mouth notice the heat radiating from it. Then, before long the long dormant lizard part of your brain takes over and you don’t so much eat but devour it, in the most primal sense of the word. All you are left with are the saucy remnants on your face and hands and the aching lust for more. McDonalds thrives on this lust. Just as you start to believe, nay KNOW that finally the McRib is back to stay, like the elusive Sasquatch it slips away.
Good bye my tasty friend.
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