I happily swallowed my elitist scoffing at Wawa and was thrilled when someone suggested we go there later that night after hitting the bars in Dewey. And I was extra happy to nurse my hangover the next morning with some Wawa goodies for the car ride home.
Even though I've since discovered that there is a Wawa five minutes from my house, I've decided to save Wawa for the beach only. I don't want to ruin its novelty (yes, a convenience store is "novel" to me). And lucky me, I'm headed to the Eastern shore multiple times this summer. My first trip was this weekend, and while I typically eat pretty healthy (traveling aside), all I could think about before I left was goddamn Wawa.
I was the date of a friend of mine and stayed with her and another friend. They were both in the wedding I'd be attending Saturday night, and while they went to go do bridesmaid things Saturday morning, I happily headed to Wawa before meeting a different set of friends for a day at the beach.
It was just as wonderful as I remembered. I got a sodium-laden breakfast sandwich, that beloved mocha mint iced coffee, and a pre-packaged soft pretzel. And that pre-packaged soft pretzel was way better than anything pre-packaged should be.
After the beach, because said pretzel wasn't much of a lunch, I decided to stop at Wawa on my way back and get a smoothie. And after the wedding, when my friend Amy announced she was hungry and another lamented that nothing would be open, I pointed out that Wawa is 24 fucking hours and full of everything drunk wedding goers might ever want.
Amy deliberated between a sandwich and a milkshake. I have no idea why. Getting both seemed like a perfectly viable option to me. Then she showed me the "f'real" machine. Below it was a selection of ice cream flavors in their own single serve cups, and all you had to do was pick your flavor, pop it in the machine, select your desired thickness, and in a few seconds you had a milkshake. Excuse me. A F'REAL.
I wasn't hungry (I had two pieces of wedding cake), but I had to have one.
Unfortunately, *this* drunk wedding goer accidentally put her "Towson Hot Bagels" rewards card in her clutch rather than a credit card, so I sadly didn't think I could partake. Fortunately, my buddies had me covered.
Amy and I got our f'reals and Wawa outdid itself yet again.