Near the eastern terminus of the Northwest Distressway, there sits a McDonald’s, and yesterday they had an electronic sign reading simply “McRib!”
I was three lanes away when I saw it, and decided I would proceed toward another location, near Ted’s on May. Now May at the afternoon rush is about as bad as the Distressway, squeezed into fewer lanes, so getting there was going to be half the fun.
No crowd yet — they have twin drive-in lanes, and there was no traffic in either — but the magic word was not in evidence. I decided to feign innocence: “Has the McRib arrived yet?” The fourteen-year-old at the window, or so he sounded, solemnly assured me that it had not.
But I was calm, I was cool, and when the young lady at the second window collected a $20 from me, I managed to fumble away almost the entirety of my $12ish change. I did not actually swear until I got back to the edge of the parking lot, and then I held it back: making the right turn required waiting for no oncoming traffic. (I am not insane enough to try to make a left turn at 5:10 pm.) I accepted this as the universe’s apology.
Update, 5:15 pm: McRib obtained, and at a slightly lower price than I expected.