In the glory days of ancient Rome, I imagine emporia brimming with earthly delights. All manner of items. Which leads me to, well, Wegman’s. We recently got a Wegman’s convenient to me. As I entered for the first time, I heard the flutter of angel’s wings as their voices soared to the high ceilings in the wood-floored, climate controlled, colorful and beautiful store.
There is light pop music playing. Something contemporary but hummable by all ages. The lighting is bright…but soft. The fruits and vegetables are gleaming and dewy. The store is vast. Huuuuuuge.
I try to comprehend all that is before me. There is an Asian food bar. A Mexican food bar. A Mediterranean food bar with at least six different kinds of hummus. A sushi station with what appear to be very authentic sushi roller people speaking to each other in Japanese. There is a bakery (bread and pastries, separated of course), a dessert bar, a coffee shop and even a pub. They handcraft candy in the store. Before my very eyes. There is a bulk food station with nuts and granola. One corner of the store is reserved for big box store style pallets of goods so that if I really wanted to, I could buy hundreds of rolls of paper towels and thousands of cans of cat food quickly and easily. There is even a freakin’ cave aged cheese section. I mean, not just any old Kraft singles or one impressive wheel of real parmesan. Cave aged is serious business.
There’s no two ways about it, I am smitten. And then I discover that they have awesome tuna salad. Tuna, celery, mayo. That’s it. Now I am star struck and head over heels in love. They have organic everything, which I think is a scam but still nice to have the option. They have entire aisles of vegan foods. Rows of gluten free foods. All you have to do is think of a possible type of food and it seems to magically appear before you.
My fellow blogger Kate will be thrilled to know they have a dazzling selection of lemon meringue pies. A dazzling selection of everything.
But perhaps what is most impressive is that they have actual employees. Smiling, helpful people everywhere you look. Want to sample something before you buy? No problem, just ask. Not sure if you are holding an organic miniature Argentinian potato or just a regular old miniature Argentinian potato? Simply ask, and your knowledgeable and friendly Wegman’s employee will tell you. It’s raining outside, perhaps you’d like someone to walk you to your car while holding an umbrella over your head? Yes, perhaps. Not raining but just want an escort? You got it.
I’m notoriously bad about checking prices and using coupons and whatnot. So for all I know a gallon of Wegman’s Carefully Crafted Milk costs $28, to pay for all the beautiful goods and incessantly helpful staff. I don’t know, and I don’t care. It is a small price to pay for people to pretend they really, really care about my well-being. The bottom line is that I want to live at Wegman’s, but the only thing I can’t seem to find in the store is bedding. No problemo, I can bring my own.
If you listen closely, you may hear Nero fiddling somewhere. Rome might be burning, but I’m ready to go down with it.