Folks are going gaga for Wawa, the convenience store chain that has its own fervent fan base. Marion County’s Wawa admirers should be elated because we now have three Wawas coming to a corner near you.
Opening day at the first local Wawa had a standing-room-only crowd. I know because I was waiting in the long line to get my free coffee as advertised. I finally gave up and decided to fill up my car with Wawa gas. Once again, the lines were so long that I left and drove fwa fwa away.
Not to be defeated, I ended up visiting a Wawa in Orlando the following week after picking up my daughter Gilly from the airport. She had become a Wawa acolyte in college after many of her friends raved over Wawa when talking about their hometowns. Mind you, they were sentimental about a convenience store.
Walking in, I half expected to see an orchestra playing for all the hype. No such luck, but there was an electric buzz inside and it wasn’t from the Icee machine. Customers were visibly engaged while consuming food and drink with an urgent sense of purpose.
The hoagie station commanded a crowd of diligent sub lovers, ordering their sandwiches like they were reciting the pledge. Nearby, shoppers intensely scanned the aisles for their purchase item the same way Keanu Reeves tried to break the Matrix code. Speaking of candy — see how quickly I can segue to sugar? — the candy aisle was a Willie Wonka-inspired inventory. Suddenly, I was a kid again holding three kinds of caramel chews.
Ariana Grande’s music was piped through the sound system and I found myself nodding to the beat while deciding how many of my favorite salt-pepper cashew packages should one really buy? But, when Britney started playing, things really started hoppin’. The Wawa employees imitated the pop star’s nasally voice to “Hit Me, Baby One More Time.” At the soda machine, another customer and I hummed to how Britney’s loneliness was killin’ her, she confessed. We sang aloud “still believe!” to the chorus in falsetto voice.
“Now I’ll never get this song out of my head,” my fellow choral singer laughed as he filled up his oversized red Wawa reusable drink cup.
Note to self: must get one of those cups. Five free refills! Sorry, Michael Bloomberg.
When I was young, my father and I had a weekly tradition of visiting what we called the “Jiffy Store” to get two ice-cold glass bottles of Cola and a bag of salty shelled peanuts. We’d sit in his truck, drop the peanuts into the bottles, and gulp until our hearts were content. The combination of the sweet and salty hit the spot on a hot summer day. We’d usually let out a carbonated-incited burp to see who could be the loudest.
We’d usually see a friend or two walking into the store as we sat outside. If no one familiar would show up, Dad would play a game he created to guess what the visitor would buy.
“She’s going to get a pack of gum and a newspaper,” Dad would say pointing to the woman walking through the store’s front doors. “Oh, here’s another one — he’s probably getting a cold beer.”
If we got it right, we’d high five, then slurp some more cola and nuts.
Funny, I haven’t thought about those days until walking into a Wawa. If Dad were alive, he’d be a major Wawa fan. Now, I’m getting sentimental over a convenience store.
Heading to the check-out counter, I grabbed a bag of peanuts to go with my soda.
This one’s for you, Dad.
