I know: it can be nerve-wracking.
You're standing in line, second from the cash register. An amazingly thin woman in front asks for a McRib meal. You're guessing the morbidly obese man behind you is probably going to buy 5. You're in a predicament.
The McRib predicament.
You've heard of the hysteria, and the peer pressure is working its magic. But no: I'm a stalwart American! I do what I want! But doesn't being American almost obligate you to eat something from McDonalds? Why not the McRib? You can't honestly say you'll just be happy enough with the measly order of chicken nuggets, can you? The woman in front picks up her order, and a short disgruntled Hispanic man is giving you the "you gonna order?" look. So, the time comes:
What's it gonna be?
This narrative, while exaggerated and bordering on racially insensitive, probably goes through the minds of millions when the McDonalds McRib promotion comes around. It's quick, disturbing, rare, and epitomizes the essence of fast-food capitalism. And in the midst of this year's holiday madness, it's back.
The food giant announced that, from October 24th through November 14th, many of the easily-recognizable golden arches will be offering the sandwich with the fanatical following. This comes after the immense success of last year's McRib promotion: profits of the humble sandwich alone boosted McDonald's sales by 4.8%.
I never really had the itch to buy a McRib. Or 5. But this year, I wanted to understand what all the fuss was about. So, I decided that it would be my mission to try one out for the first time.
Being a self-styled McRib virgin, I didn’t know what direction to go. So, like any self-educating mild-mannered middle-class American, I decided to do my research on the legendary McRib.
I was pleasantly surprised to learn a few things. For one, the moniker is fairly misleading: there technically isn’t a rib inside the McRib, since it doesn’t have bones left in the meat. Thank goodness I got that out of the way. Marta Fearon, McDonald’s U.S. marketing director, personally delights in this, saying that this aspect only “gives it this quirky sense of humor.” Another fact that surprised was the McRib’s initial sales.
During the “McDonald’s Renaissance” of the mid-80’s to early 90’s, different foods were added to spice up the McDonald’s menu; one of those foods was the McRib (on another note, this era also ushered in the “McLobster”. Never heard of it? There’s a reason why. Other notable alumni of this era are the McCrab, the Hulaburger, and Onion Nuggets. Yeah). The McRib, despite its notoriety, sold poorly when it was introduced in 1984. The sandwich only sold well in the Midwest, and even then, only lasted a shallow 4 years on the menu due to lagging sales. I was beginning to lose hope in my quest for the McRib.
Then I found statistics on its impact a little later on.
The McRib is the supreme promotional item, and Marta Fearon knows this. “Bringing it back every so often adds to the excitement!” she told reporters from Yahoo earlier this month. And Marta is right. The McRib as a limited-time food has brought tremendous success since its re-inception, and has garnered a cult following; this accounts for the frenetic McRib purchasing during these times of promotion.
And what a following it has!
Millions go out of their way just to have a taste of a McRib, and are not afraid to stockpile when they become available. Case in point? Jeremy Duensing. Jeremy was visiting his parents while on a trip to Nebraska. To his delight, he found a McDonald’s that served the McRib. Consequently, he bought 6 of the pork sandwiches and preserved them by storing them in an ice- packed freezer.
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| Apocalypse food storage, or purchases of a crazed McRib fanatic? |
To someone who had never tasted a McRib, I don’t just find this disturbing. I find it teetering on the edge of psychological imbalance. But, to my greater surprise, Jeremy isn’t the only one.
The list goes on and on. One man drives 10 hours from Oregon to California to taste one. Another flew straight to Germany, where the product is sold year-round, just so he can fulfill his McRib craving. McDonald’s even ran a campaign asking for people’s stories concerning their McRib enthusiasm. Believe me when I say the list doesn’t end at those two examples. Do I even want to eat this thing anymore?
I tell myself that I’ve already committed, so there’s no weaseling out of this one. But how do I go about searching for this hard-to-find sandwich? Thank God for the McRib Locator.
That’s right. The McRib Locator.
To cater to the frantic hordes of McRib aficionados, local Minnesota meteorologist Alan Klein developed the McRib Locator website, a frequently-updated page dedicated solely to tracking McDonald’s restaurants who serve the McRib after the promotion is done for the year. Klein reports that his site gets on average 300-400 hits a week. As indicated by the aforementioned examples, we can tell these people use and abuse this site.
And so, in my quest for the McRib, I decide to visit this site. It’s like any other webpage: a stark red background, banners on the sides asking you to “Vote ‘NO’ on [insert bill/initiative/referendum]” or to consider pursuing an online degree on Bible studies, and the obligatory “Like Us on Facebook!” button. But from the get-go, you know this one is different. Set in the middle is a large imposing Google Maps feature, with marked locations all across it. A key at the bottom helps you differentiate between confirmed purchases and fabled sightings. I feel as if I am on a Bigfoot-hunting website. There is a portion on the right which allows you to enter in your own McRib sightings. On the top of the page is a navigation bar with links to a complementary forum and blog. It’s quite a production, to say the least. So, I commence.
I look up my city and, lo and behold, several restaurants are serving the McRib! I feel an odd sense of accomplishment as I drive towards a location in Redmond.
The beginning narrative may be funny, but it is a retelling of my own experience. As the thin woman walks away with her meal, I approach the unhappy McDonald’s worker. I can feel my quest coming to a completion as I ask for my meal. The employee taps into the cash register as he hands me my medium-sized drink. Another woman and her daughter pick up their order: two McRib meals.
When I finish filling up my drink, my order is already completed and is handed to me by a much-happier female employee. I bring my tray and eat it. I feel like my subsequent Twitter post sums it all up.
Curse you, Marta Fearon, and your cruelly effective advertisement strategy! There’s some things not even a severe recession can change.
