Anyone have a guilty pleasure?
Binge-watching old episodes of Saved by the Bell? Reading Archie comics in the loo? Falling down the YouTube wormhole and realizing you’ve spent 90 minutes checking out hockey fights from the ‘70s?
(Note, I have no idea who would do any of the above).
I can unashamedly share one of mine.
It’s the McRib.
That’s right, the semi-glorious pork product that appears with eclipse-like frequency, often without warning, and sends me to the drive-through for several days in a row. No pickles, add a little mayonnaise… nothing better.
Once, only once, the stars aligned and the McRib and Shamrock Shake made an appearance at the same time. Greatest combination ever.
Don’t judge.
Anytime there’s any mention of the McRib, my sister takes the time to point it out and make fun of my completely understandable affinity for the world’s finest fast-food product. (Note to the folks at Mickey D’s: If you’re looking for a non-celebrity endorser, look no further…).
This time, she had sent me a picture of a plain McRib ‘patty’ to get my thoughts. I told her it was beautiful and wouldn’t hear any negative talk whatsoever. This morphed into a discussion on what odd thing we would do if we cashed in the redneck pension plan (won the lottery). Everyone always says the same thing — buy your family cars and houses, travel, give money to charity, blah, blah, blah.
Of course I’d do all of that — but what about an off-the-wall pursuit?
Mine was easy. I’d buy a Corvette (again, non-celeb here willing to take many test drives) and follow the McRib, Homer Simpson-style, around North America. Completely reasonable, right?
I can pretty much guarantee only a select few others out there would pursue a similar dream, so I’m feeling kind of special.
My aforementioned sister, who’s kind of addicted to Starbucks and has no business casting aspersions on my unique life goals, did offer her own strange quest.
She wants to travel the world, acquiring Starbucks collector cups from every location possible. (She still moans about losing one from Hawaii, so if anyone has a spare, send it to me and help stem the torrent of tears). This, of course, is plain silly. If you’re going to collect something, it should be Pez dispensers.
A few unique secret pleasures from other folks in the office:
“Froot Loops. Even though I live alone, I still hide the box.”
“Mini pizzas. My sister and I just love those.”
“Cutting my toenails outside. I don’t have to pick up the clippings.”
“Every six weeks or so, I like to order a 20-pack of Timbits and they’re all for me.”
“Watching those horrible made-for-TV disaster movies.”
“Vodka and cream soda Slurpees.”
“Having some wine… but not in a wine glass.”
“Watching Paw Patrol when the kids have left the room.”
“Waiting until the kids go to sleep so I can have the last piece of pie I’ve hidden at the back of the fridge.”
As always, we want to hear from you. What’s your guilty pleasure?
Philip Wolf is a regional editor for Black Press. He can be reached at philip.wolf@black press.ca
