Fuel and Food Are Quick, but the Fealty Is Forever

By TRIP GABRIEL

SELINSGROVE, Pa. — The fat columns and thick canopy are a neon Stonehenge, beckoning travelers to gather in pagan adulation. Out-of-staters passing by on Route 15 may be mystified by the name, but to residents of central Pennsylvania the brightly lighted Sheetz convenience store, stocked with Utz chips and a Cupo’ccino machine, is a source of pride — no, passion.

“I would have to say I’m a Sheetz girl,” said Jennifer Zack, 34, handing the cashier a loyalty card with her coffee order.

Jeff Marquette, 32, a cable installer stopping for a sandwich, said: “I drive out of my way to go to Sheetz. That’s sad, I know.”

Convenience stores are supposed to be interchangeable, selling low-priced gas and self-serve coffee based on the proposition that when you need a pit stop, you turn in to the first you see, right there.

But in Pennsylvania, two convenience chains stir tribal loyalties, a commitment as deep as bonds with the Philadelphia Phillies or Pittsburgh Pirates.

The second also has a name that strafes outsiders’ ears: Wawa. State lore has it that it is the honk of the goose on its logo.

“When I moved here 13 years ago, I didn’t want to go based on the name alone,” said Caiti Fischer, stopping at a Wawa in Glen Mills, west of Philadelphia. It was not far from the town of Wawa, which is Mile Zero in the chain’s history and the real source of its name.

Ms. Fischer eventually changed her mind. “I’m here at least 10 times a week,” she said. “At least.” She cradled a 24-ounce vat of coffee at 4 in the afternoon. “I can’t stay away.”

Wawa’s customers have been known to tattoo its name on their biceps. Its Facebook page has passed one million “likes.” The tie-dyed Hoagiefest T-shirt that the chain sells each summer is a collectors’ item.

Don Longo, the editor of Convenience Store News, said Sheetz and Wawa were among a handful of regional chains in the country that he called “best in class.” They operate convenience stores that update the old formula known as “Coke and smokes” by offering self-serve soda fountains and cappuccino bars, friendly service and, especially, fresh sandwiches ordered on a touch screen.

Mitt Romney was excited by the technology at a Wawa on a presidential campaign bus tour last year. After keying in his meatball hoagie with pickles and sweet peppers, he declared the “touch tone” pad a marvel. Mr. Romney was well aware of the Wawa versus Sheetz rivalry in Pennsylvania. “I know it’s a very big state divide,” he told voters.

A political pollster in Harrisburg even surveyed Pennsylvanians on their favorite, though results were skewed because of Sheetz’s wider state footprint.

On the touch-screen issue, Sheetz was apparently first. A store manager in the 1980s was trying to move deli meats and let customers write orders on a slip of paper to deposit in a basket. Marketing and technology folks took it from there. “I have to brag and say we beat Wawa,” said a Sheetz spokeswoman, Monica Jones. “This is undisputed.”

Sheetz is the slightly smaller chain, with 226 stores in Pennsylvania and a total of 435 in the region. Wawa has 216 in-state stores and 607 over all, as far south as Tampa, Fla., and north to Parsippany, N.J.

There are clear differences. Sheetz has neon colors, pumps loud country music and is overly fond of the alliterative use of its name in products. It sells Sheetz Shweetz, a CinnaShmonster and Shmuffins. Near its corporate headquarters in Altoona, it offers employees a Shwellness Center.

To Sheetz’s country mouse, Wawa is a more suburban creature. Its décor features muted browns and blonds, and a central island of healthy food includes diced mangoes and apple slices.

“I think that Sheetz people are probably a little perkier than the Wawa people,” said a regular named Doug, who was making his second visit of the day to the Sheetz in Selinsgrove. “It might have to do with we’re up here where people are just a lot friendlier than they are down there.”

“Down there” is Philadelphia and the Lehigh Valley, where Wawa fans can exude a whiff of cosmopolitan disdain. The crowd-sourced Urban Dictionary includes unflattering definitions for “Sheetz,” like “a convenience store/gas station where hicks from Lititz, Pa., like to hang out all night, every night.”

In Sheetz parlance, those night owls who fill the place after 2 a.m. are Sheetz Freakz.

Ashley Timlin, 22, who stopped in at the Wawa in Glen Mills, told a tale often heard about young people who leave for college but pine for the tastes of home. “My friend moved to Florida and moved back and went on a Wawa binge for two weeks,” she said.

Up the road in Lancaster, Joy Deckman, 56, a nurse, was picking up a Sheetz sandwich after ordering from a screen that was promoting new menu items: fried pickle chips and Boom Boom sauce. She, too, had a tale of the siren call of a fast-food favorite.

“Whenever we travel, my husband will pull into a Sheetz before anything else,” she said. “He likes Sheetz better than Wawa. He likes the food better, and no offense, but men are driven by their stomachs.”