Oh Wawa—

How much I enjoy saying that peculiar sounding, the two-syllable word: Wawa. Or, as I’ve now adopted after a year of being at Princeton: the ‘Wa.'

Here’s to you, Wawa. A year ago, before moving to begin my undergraduate career at the ‘best damn place at all’, I had never heard of you. I didn’t know what joy you would bring me with each late night, hot ‘ready made’ sandwich— and how much sorrow you would bring me when I checked my bank account monthly. Yes, indeed, this love has been a trying one.

But this love has also been a great one.

You were there for me with every all-nighter, with countless Red Bulls and 24-oz. coffees (and more donuts than was probably acceptable). In every aisle comes a new surprise: Zapp’s Potato Chips, Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream (albeit a very limited selection, but who am I to judge my mistress, Wawa?), various fresh and juicy fruit, and more creamer for my inevitable caffeine fix than I ever thought humanly possible.

You were there for me during #Snowmaggedon2016 when I found it inhumanly possible to trek through snow as high as my knees to get to the nearest dining hall. Dear Wawa, you were there— only a few hundred feet away from my dorm— to weather the storm with me, providing me with the most delectable processed junk food I can find this far north. Healthy foods, beware, all ye who enter.

Dearest Wa, you have seen countless friendships solidify in your aisles as students shuffle from coffee machine to the check-out counter to the ready-made food counter together, whether they are lamenting the woes of class work and the stress of all-nighters or drunkenly hugging each other (and strangers) because their night was as good as could be expected after three shots, four beers, and a drinking game; buying groceries for last minute meals to be cooked together or simply stopping in for a refreshment on the way to class. You have heard the deepest conversations, the funniest jokes, and heart-wrenching stories that would put the ASPCA dog commercials to shame.

But beyond being a Princeton student staple, the beloved Wawa on Alexander street serves as a cornerstone that connects Princeton to the rest of the world. “In the nation’s service and the in the service of all nations,” or so the motto goes. And you, Wawa, situated right by the Dinky (the train line connection to Princeton Junction, which then goes to Trenton or up the Northeast Corridor to New York Penn Station), are the first and last thing that hundreds of people see every day when they come to Princeton’s campus, for various reasons: to visit their children and relatives that attend the university, to give lectures that students and citizens of the town of Princeton attend weekly, to close business deals and visit influential faculty… they are the upholders of knowledge and bastions of intellect, compassion, and the desire to improve our nation and nations beyond. But beyond that, these are common people, too. They walk away from Princeton’s campus having felt the magic of Princeton, the spell of calm and quiet like the eye of the storm but also a deeper feeling that a veil of magic has fallen over one’s eyes. With all of the problems that this campus has, it is truly beautiful and I haven’t met anyone yet who can say that this campus isn’t aesthetically pleasing.

And although Wawa might not be on their immediate minds as they board the train and leave, or walk up campus to encounter the beautiful scenery, the foliage, and the unique situation that is the Orange Bubble, they partake in our capitalistic society, exchanging hard earned dollars for drinks and snacks that flavor their memories of Princeton. The best memories are the ones tinged with the faint spice of Cool Ranch Doritos, or the sweet yet bitterly unsettling taste of Vita Coconut Water. Trust me, I would know.

Returning to my comment concerning the aesthetic pleasure of buildings, the Wawa building is very aesthetically pleasing, a combination of dark metal and glass rising up to the sky, and I think the position of you, dear Wawa, is important. While the architecture of Princeton stays ultra-traditional, harkening back to our historic days of the Revolutionary War with preserved buildings and gothic towers, our Wawa is located at the end of campus, right next to all the construction, symbolically a place where Princeton is expanding into the 21st century, although it is not there yet.

As people leave and arrive on campus, they are passing through a portal of sorts where time travel is possible and it is possible to imagine the past where soldiers were stationed at Nassau Hall, where Woodrow Wilson and other problematic presidential favorites walked the paths that we walk to the lecture halls where they spoke on numbers of topics. We can sit in the chapel that hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions of people have sat— where perhaps a baby would have cried in the silent stillness of Sunday mass or other congregational meetings, or where a beautiful couple got married 60 years ago and still to this day celebrate a beautiful union of love… or ended in the tragic divorce of titanic proportions, the shrapnel of a life made together floating around them in the ice.

...I digress.

So yes, dearest Wawa, thank you for being my calm amidst the storm, for being the one I run to when I’m stressed out. You’re worth every breakout and self-loathing session in the morning, and I wouldn’t trade you for any of’ 7/11 or Sunoco. But beyond that, you are a symbol of what is come as we move into a new age. Here’s to you, Wa.