What the Wawa!

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Everyone knows I grew up in Detroit.  I love the city life.  I wasn’t raised in the “hood” contrary to what everyone believes when you say you are from Detroit.  I moved to the suburbs but still would tell people I lived in Detroit because that’s how we do things in Michigan.

I don’t mind large crowds, the hustle and bustle, busy traffic and noise.  I don’t mind that.  I have been in some of the rougher sections of Detroit.  My first teaching assignment was on the deep east side.  My Michigan friends  may know the Mack and Chalmers area.  Enough said. But it didn’t bother me.

So if I could live in the city, walk downtown, go to the Coney Island at 2:00 am then I can go anywhere.  Maybe almost anywhere. Last week I shared my fear of cats with you.  Well I fear Wawa.  I know that sounds crazy.  I have been trying to think of an experience in Detroit that compares to Wawa and I can’t find one yet.

Wawa, for my Michigan friends is like a mini Meijer/gas station/restaurant.  First when I walk in Wawa, I go into sensory overload.  I think I know what Sydney feels like now.  There are people buying breakfast, coffee, making lattes, buying snacks, lunch and dinner.  They are paying for gas and using the atm.  The sights and sounds alone put me over the edge.  Now some of you have been with me in Wawa and probably think I am bonkers.

But here is the best part.  I have a confession to make.  I have an OCD thing.  I can’t get my own pop from the self serve pop machine.  I know, you think I am losing it.  I hate touching the lids and grabbing my cup and straw.  Yesterday, I was in Wawa and I am trying to get my pop in the largest cup I could find. I had the construction worker on one side of me and the landscapers on the other side.  Behind me was the impatient business man.  So I am doing my best to move quickly and finally the man behind me says, “Here let me help you.” I thought oh how sweet and then I checked his ring finger, no ring.  He started a conversation with me and when he reached to touch the lid and put it on my drink I freaked out. And said “No, don’t touch my lid!” I think I screamed out loud. Awkward.  Hence, there  was no love connection there.

You are probably thinking what is this blog about. The message is,  facing your fears no matter how silly or small they appear to others.  When we can face the tiny fears, that prepares us for the huge hurdles that we must endure.

I will get over my fear of Wawa.  But I need someone to explain one thing to me.  Is it a Delaware thing that you pull up to the gas pump, pump your gas, leave your car unattended and then go inside Wawa for 30 minutes?  Just asking. Jumping Junebugs!!!!

Your fears are not silly! Are you laughing with me yet?

~Brooke

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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