Meleta, a long time regular is a local firefighter and we love that. She has followed Devin from another store.
Some of us have routines for consistency, some of us for purpose, and maybe just maybe there’s another reason. Mine, for the longest time, included a stop by the Wawa in Short Pump.
Now let me back up and tell you that I have a long history of loving convenience stores. Right now you’re probably thinking: this is information you should’ve kept to yourself ya weirdo. Truth be known I find them a little bit magical, in the morning especially. Back up . . .all the time.
The one thing you’ll always find in a convenience store are MEN. Men have strange behavior, and I am a lover of strange behavior and people watching. Men stare at candy, beer, soft drinks, donuts, fountain machines, ice-cream etc. You get the idea. They will eat an entire meal from a convenience store. I find this disgusting but like a lot of disgusting things: I enjoy watching a good train wreck as much as the next girl. How many taquitos, nachos and 2 lb drinks can you possibly ingest?
Then you have your cigarette and lottery ticket people and they’re a different story altogether. Do not hand someone a soft pack who asked for a box or you will get a look of disdain complete with colorful dialogue. So knowing my affliction I can move onto my theory.
So here I am stopping at this Wawa every morning for coffee and it’s bringing me a smile every morning. I sometimes tell myself that the $7 I spend a week on coffee is frivolous, but then the other voice says “But you love going to the Wawa”.
So I started dissecting why I love the convenience stores a little deeper. I realized that although the people-watching thing is consistently good that there may be a deeper thread here.
Ever go to a middle school dance? They have this big ole gym but the kids collect in a sweaty little B.O. cluster near the DJ. People don’t spread out like you think they will. They clump together in herds like the animals we are. My theory is that we need each other.
No we don’t! We can all exist independently and I don’t need to see or be near any strangers at the Wawa. Are you sure? Maybe you don’t follow through with your need by going to Wawa in the morning, but I bet you seek out connection in other ways.
I found that the employees there are like little social workers, especially this particular store. They recognize their regulars and acknowledge their needs and just like a Cheer’s moment . . .everyone enjoys being recognized. Maybe when they leave the house in a rush, deep down they’re craving a small interaction. A pleasant one of the human variety. They only know you by: That lady who always gets a 24oz coffee (me) or the man who gets some sort of weird breakfast food and some smokes, but it’s recognition all the same. For a brief moment you exit your own persona and you’re just that nice lady who gets gum.
Nobody knows you’re going through a divorce at the Wawa, or that your kids drove you to the brink of homicide before you left the
Striking a familiar pose, he’s ready to make you smile even if you didn’t know you needed one.
house. They certainly don’t suspect that you left your kitchen full of dirty dishes and the laundry 10 feet high. For just a split second, you’re just that nice man who says good morning and opens the door for a lady.
There’s a clerk at the Short Pump Wawa named Devin and he’s there most mornings. He’s hilarious, he does impressions and he makes everyone feel kind of important for a few seconds. I’ve studied him and I’m fascinated. There can be 4 lines open and everyone will pour into his line and just let it back up. The other cashiers don’t even bother anymore to recruit you to their register because they know you won’t budge.
You should see it when he’s not there. More eye rolling than you can imagine. “Where’s Devin”, says every person coming through there. The thing that makes Devin special is that he takes a minute to say something amusing, look at you familiarly, arch a brow, use an accent, comment on anything and it’s just plain fun.
What I find is that it extends a little further. We, the regulars start recognizing each other. Giving each other that “Hey you” kinda look in the morning. It’s nice and I like it. Maybe I’m simple to the utmost extreme. Or maybe I’m just more honest than most about my feelings and weirdness.
So leave your problems and your successes at the door, because at the convenience store you’re just a person having a quick social encounter. Connecting briefly with near strangers and moving along your day and it’s one of life’s little pleasures if you ask me. You did ask didn’t ya?
