Monday, November 15, 2010

The McRib Experiment: The Bribe

Several days ago, my fiance Theresa assured me that there was, and I quote, "No way you can get me to eat a McRib."  Of course, I took this as a challenge, so now I'm going to do everything in my power to get her to partake of the McDonald's "Limited Time Only" delicacy.  We're calling it, "The McRib Experiment".

My first attempt took place on the evening of November 9th.  I stopped by the local Mickey D's on my way home from work and ordered the McRib combo.  Immediately, there was a problem.

"I'm sorry, but we're out of McRib buns," said the drive-through McPloyee.

"You've gotta be freakin' kiddin' me.  You've got these things for six weeks and you're already out of buns?"

"We're expecting some more in about fifteen minutes if you want to wait.  Or we could put it on one of our honey baked rolls."

"Yeah, fine, do that." I said.  It's mystery meat slathered in fake barbecue sauce.  How much worse could a substitute bun make it?

When I got home, Theresa was sitting in the living room.  "Hi, Honey," I said.  "I got you something to eat.  Take a look."  I held up the McDonald's bag.

"I'm not eating a McRib," she said.

"Okay, here's the deal.  I'll give you ten bucks right now to eat it."  Suddenly I started to feel a little bit like Sam-I-Am.  If she turned down the money, maybe I could get her to eat one in a box.  Or with a fox.  Or in a house.  Or with a mouse.

I took a ten dollar bill from my wallet and set it along side the McRib.


"No way," said Theresa.  "Look at that crap, it's disgusting."

Her son Doug came over.  "Can I have the ten bucks if I eat it?"

"No.  It's for your mom.  Besides, for ten bucks, you'd eat your own shoe."

"What's your point?" asked Doug.

"Yeah, well, forget it."  I turned to Theresa.  "Well, there it is, all yours."

"I told you I'm not eating that," said Theresa.

"You sure?  Ten dollars . . . Meal, or No Meal?" I asked, dramatically.

"Uh, no meal."

Since I'm not going to go above a ten-spot for the bribery phase, I guess it's time to move on to Plan B.  And don't worry, there is most definitely a Plan B.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, the McRib didn't go to waste . . .


Of course, the fact that Munson went out in the back yard and immediately yakked all over the place is only going to make my mission more difficult.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .



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15 comments:

Expat From Hell said...

Hey, your dog is smart. He knew it was the wrong kind of bun. EFH

Jon Hanson said...

Ha - I just finished photographing a McRib and all it's goodness for a post i'm going to put up tonight.

They are not great. They are really not even "good" but there is something appealing about them that I cannot describe. I just know that every 4 or 5 years or however often they come along I am forced to eat one. Or six.

SD
simpledudecomplexworld.blogspot.com

Anonymous said...

You have waxed poetic before about the McRib sandwich. In fact, when I saw the ads, I thought of you!

The McRibster Knucklehead. Micaribbadingdong!

Hmm, that reminds me of SNL skit.

Ha!

Grumpy, M.D. said...

Okay, so if they're so good why didn't YOU eat it instead of the dog?

Heff said...

If a ten spot didn't work, I think you're gonna have to offer up some household "McChores" to get her to cave in.

Fred Miller said...

My ex used to ask me for money a lot. One day I took a crisp hundred dollar bill over to her house and offered it in exchange for sex. I'll be damned if she didn't do it with me for a hundred dollar bill. I even made her hold it while we did it. Sexiest c-note I ever saw.

What am I saying? Every woman has a price. Thank God!

Peter Varvel said...

WHEW. I was about to accuse you of animal abuse, had that sandwich stayed un-yakked . . .

J.J. in L.A. said...

What Grumpy said.

And, while some men might DREAM that every woman has her price, you'd have to rob Fort Knox, the Treasury building AND the nation of Switzerland before I'd eat a(nother) McRib.

Actually, even that wouldn't do it.

Unknown said...

the dog definitely put a damper on things.

http://howtobecomeacatladywithoutthecats.blogspot.com said...

Poor McMunson. Did you give him the ten dollars to go buy himself a bag of doggy McBiscuits?

KaLynn ("MiMi") said...

What's with the McRibs? You, Simple Dude and Micael! All love these things! I can't say they look appealing to me, so it MUST be a guy thing!

Poor pooch!

I will be looking forward to the continuing saga of getting Theresa to eat one!

vickilikesfrogs said...

I'd eat a McRib for ten bucks! Your girl is a sissy.

Becky @ Welcome to my life said...

@Fred Miller: I agree, us women? We all have our price. I am not ashamed to admit I had sex with my ex for a Benjamin. And yes, I got that bitch up front. *ahem* so to speak.

@KaLynn, I must be an anomaly (and for those of you who know me, that sort of goes without saying) but I LOVE the McRibs. I have 2 or 3 every week until they are gone again.

@Chris, I don't know what to tell you about the people you're living with.... *sigh* I'll pray for you.

Jeanne Estridge said...

A. That is one of the most disgusting items of food I've ever seen.

B. So Teresa is a woman of taste and discernment, which is a nice compliment for you. (So maybe you should stop trying to poison her. Just sayin'.)

C. I almost snorted water on my (work) PC when I read about the dog. Seriously, remember that some of us sneak blogtime at work.

MikeWJ at Too Many Mornings said...

Your wife is tough. I'd eat a McRib for $5. In fact, I almost paid to eat one about four days ago because I was thinking about your first post on this subject. I don't want to bet against you, but I'm thinking she's going to win this one.

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