Oh, humble, fortuitous Wawa, where do I even begin? Do I praise you for how dependable you are? Whether it be 2 AM on a Wednesday in Piscataway, 7:30 AM on a Tuesday in Center City, or any other conceivable combination on the space-time continuum (within NJ/PA), you are there for me. After a masquerade ball, before a trip to the beach, you welcome me with open arms.
It would be a crime to note your hospitality and not your trove of treasures. Every snack and drink conceivable to my finite, mortal mind is hosted by your shelves. I could spend hours poring over the content of your aisles, for they contain glorious multitudes. There is never a snack need that you cannot answer. There are even victuals unfathomable to me; it would be a sin most egregious to neglect to mention your hoagies at the very least. Your hoagies which have carried me near and far, sating this otherwise insatiable hunger of mine. And then you continue to blow my mind with food combinations unseen, such as your Cheesesteak Mac & Cheese or Chicken Bowl. ICEEs flow from your fountains like a river, a bountiful harvest of donuts made fresh daily is contained within your fields.
The thought of leaving you fills me with great despair; truly I have a Wawa-sized void in my heart. How could I survive the arid deserts of my life if not for your streams of canned cold brew? Surely I would stumble like a blind fool if it weren't for your Boston cream donuts lighting my way through the dimmest mornings and latest nights. You are woven into the fabric of my life; after a hairy break-up, I run to thee, in the midst of celebration I sing your praise with friends and family.
Truly, there are none above you. I couldn't leave the East Coast if I wanted to: I am weak to your powers. On a road trip, if someone daresay "Wanna stop at 7-Eleven?", immediately I knit my brow in incredulous indignation. How could they be so disloyal? How could they be so blind? My only hope is that they see the error of their ways.
You are a focal point in my millennial existence. I mourn those who have not yet met you, for they have yet to awaken and live as I have.
