There is no middle ground in Rochester -- you are one or the other. And most good Rochestarians are Wegmans.
We started with Hegedorns, a nice little family-owned supermarket that employed many high school kids and provided my brother with his one and only crime (stealing a candy bar) and my first job. When we went shopping, we were always excited to head down the baking aisle with the chocolate chips. Our mom told us if the bag was broken, you could eat them.
This is not really true.
Wegmans moved in and we were quickly lured in by the size, selection, and ambiance.
We felt like traitors.
Traitors with better, cheaper food.
So I've been Wegmans for 20 years.
I don't know anyone who has ever been Tops.
Jamie and I drive 6 miles to Wegmans rather than 2 miles down the hill to Tops.
I have, of course, been to Tops. Much like Britney sometimes has to slum it in a gas station bathroom, I've found myself in Tops. Annoyed. And yet, strangely, a bit intrigued.
I am amazed by the number of people in there. Where do they come from? Are they bussed in? Are these my neighbors? Because they don't look like my neighbors. Then again, I've only seen three of my neighbors. Who the hell knows what they look like... Wow. That's kind of sad. I feel like crying. Just a little bit.
I am confused by the layout. Nothing is where it should be -- you know, where Wegmans has it. Wegmans is open to the public. There is nothing stopping someone from Tops to head over with a pen and paper and write it all down and then fix their store. When I get lost, I get scared. And sometimes, when I've found myself in the little maze by the pharmacy, I find there's a good chance I might cry.
I am blinded by the light. Sure, a supermarket should be bright and clean and cheery, but seeing as how I'm in there to hide, I wish it was a bit dimmer. Also, it makes me think of changing rooms, bathing suits, ghastly-white skin, and cellulite. Which makes me want to cry. So any time I do have to go to Tops, there's a good chance I might cry.
I've never met a Tops cashier who wasn't cranky and/or annoyed that I was there, interrupting her day. Even the chick who mans the self-checkout area who is doing basically nothing. I want to be liked. So these women make me want to cry.
Even the food is cranky and/or annoyed. During one trip, I walked by the bread display and found a loaf on the floor. I can tell you one thing, it didn't fall off. it was a good three feet from the shelf. It was kicked out. The other loaves kicked it out. And I had to wonder: what did it do? Was it annoying? Did it smell? Had it committed some sliced-bread crime? Was there a trial? Did one loaf just get tired and kick it out? What happened? A few minutes later, I saw a block of cheese in a similar state, which was fascinating because the other cheese had to kick it up and over the refrigerator wall to get it out. What's happening there? Why the hate? Hate makes me cry.
Tops people have no problem hogging the whole aisle. Now, I understand we aren't all like Tessa, who (last I heard) liked to park her cart at one end, go get her stuff to stay out of people's way, and then return. However, I find it surprising that people in Tops will guiltlessly block the aisle and make no attempt to move. Even when to come clicking down the aisle in your heels -- clearly in a hurry -- and then suddenly stop. Mildred and Edward do not care. They are in that space for as long as they damn well need to be in order to figure out which flavor of Doritos they need. Could take all day. I get so frustrated, sometimes I think I could... um. Yeah. Cry.
I did learn that Tops is even more convenient to some people than a convenience store. And I say this having stood in line behind The Wealthy Protestant. This well-dressed woman was purchasing cookies. Just cookies. No other food, beverages, condoms, just cookies. Cookies she got in the bulk section. Cookies she didn't have the time to weigh and label which meant the cashier had to look them up and that took awhile and then she paid in cash (a $50), and that took awhile. And I thought that this woman must really have nothing going on in her life because she had just wasted time driving to Tops, parking, walking in, heading all the way back to bulk, getting her cookies, (but too busy to label), getting in line (not express), paying in cash, getting back in the car and driving home. And why was I so annoyed by this woman who took too long in line and made me spend MORE time in Tops? Because the grand total for her purchase was $0.37. Thirty-seven cents. Paid with a fifty. Ya feeling me, people? Seriously. It's bulk food. Just walk through, eat the four cookies you bought, and leave. You'll save all of us time and tears. Because waiting in line behind such a bobohead made me think about crying.
I'll give Tops one thing, however. Tops customers don't judge. Step into the line with oreos, beer, potato chips, Preparation H, and diet coke and no one cares; they've got their own carts overflowing with beef jerky, nachos, beer, wine coolers (seriously), vagisil, People magazine, and diapers. Do that in Wegmans and you are likely to get judgmental stares from the tight-faced, coiffed women toting their over-priced health food, expensive water (WATER, PEOPLE), and Vogue. Oh yes, the Women of Wegmans do judge. You better walk in there with your game on. Unless you are hitting the East Ave Wegmans. Then anything and everything is cool. Except two old men fighting over bagels on Sunday mornings, screaming and yelling in another language, lots of spitting and eventually some one's dentures land on the floor and it goes downhill from there -- I think that's why they hired Security there.
So remember, if you are: in a hurry and it's on the way, wearing a rig, not wearing make up, not groomed or showered, ready to encounter cranky cashiers and tough food, interested in getting lost on your way to find the beer, need to buy something embarrassing, or have $0.37 burning a hole in your pocket, Tops is tops. And, if you are finding you have some emotional block that you can't break through and you need to let it out, head over to Tops for awhile. I promise something there will make you want to cry.
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