Three Fast Food Meals That Made Me Sick

The other night, my friend professed his love for the McDonald's McRib sandwich. Now, don't think this is a bashing of fast-food. I won't lie, I love the stuff! As a child it was a big deal to visit Burger King or Friendly's. However, his mention of the McRib conjured up memories of one of the worst nights of my life which in turn reminded me of two more awful experiences all having one common denominator ... FAST FOOD! 


Warning: Although I promise not to get graphic, only readers with a strong stomach are encouraged to continue reading.

Night of the McDonald's McRib Sandwich
I have no idea what possessed me to order this at age 9. I've always been a sucker for the latest and greatest offerings at popular casual dining chains. I'm sure Mickey D's was advertising their new McRib which prompted me to try it.  Introduced in 1981 Smothered in BBQ sauce, this boneless rib patty was pure deliciousness and I savored every bite. Hours later, I awoke from a peaceful sleep with the urge to purge. Sadly I didn't make it to the bathroom I shared with my little brother.  Let's just say the hallway stank of putrid regurgitated BBQ sauce for weeks no matter how hard Mom scrubbed. 

Night of the Friendly's Hot Dog
Always craving a tasty wiener, I ordered a Friendly's frank I believe they called it. I remember being very young. I loved every bite of the soft square-shaped bun and the crunch and snap of the hot dog fried to perfection on the flat grill. Sadly as perfectly as I remember the dog going down, I can recall it coming up hours later. Unlike the surprise of the McRib madness, I was unable to sleep with the hot dog laying in my gut like a rock. Obviously that was the last time I ordered the Friendly's Frank. 

All Day Illness from the Bob's Big Boy Breakfast Burrito 
To this day, my mother marvels at the thought of my heinous food selection that day in Florida. While visiting family in the Tampa area, I was excited to try Bob's Big Boy. We didn't have a Bob's that I was aware of while growing up. Now, at this time, Mexican wasn't as popular as it is now, so I myself wonder what went through my mind when I ordered this plate of pure poison disguised in a neatly wrapped floured tortilla. All I can tell you is that I rolled around on the living room floor of my Uncle's house for hours in agony until the sun went down. My aunt came to the rescue with a bottle of Milk of Magnesia.