PRIVATE PLEASURES … OR, THE DEVIL MADE ME DO IT!
Yes, it’s that McMade meat concoction known as the McRIB Sandwich. I know it is just a machine masticated conglomerate of sundry cuts of pig meat parts I really don’t want to know about that has been reassembled into a what appears to be section of barbecued ribs drenched in tangy tomato sauce, covered with sliced onions and slapped between a hoagie bun. Go on, admit it … you get suckered into ordering them whenever they make their annual appearance. In my case, the devil makes me do it! And last weekend when I was out grocery shopping, the urge struck.
How could I resist? The McShack was right across the parking lot from the grocery store. It was on my way home, and the devil said, “Go on, you know you want one!” So, I ran in and ordered one, snuck it into my grocery bag and took it home. I knew from past experience that you do not eat a McRIB in public.
I hurried home, put my groceries away and sat down at the kitchen table to relish my tasty tangy tidbit. I picked my sandwich up and raised it to my mouth … and then the devil struck! Just as the sandwich reached my mouth, the sauce saturated pseudo-riblet slipped out of the bun and slopped into my lap! And it wasn’t the first time that had happened either. The devil makes it happen. And yes, I picked it off of my lap and put it back in the bun. And no, I didn’t lick the sauce off of my lap. Mlle. Renee, my housekeeper and canine companion did that.