Wegmans. If you live in Western New York, you know it's more than just a grocery store. We like to consider it more of a lifestyle, or a grocery shopping experience rather than just a place to buy produce and assorted toiletries. There's just something about walking through those sliding glass doors into a homey building full of friendly employees that are there to sell you any food item you could ever want to buy, so without further ado, here's a breakdown of a typical trip to Wegmans:

You park your car next to one of the conveniently positioned cart kiosks, that are somehow never out of order like the ones at Tops or Walmart, and take out your shopping list. It reads: coffee and apples. Simple. You continue in, on a mission.

You're greeted by a whoosh of warm air and a vibrant produce section. There's an old woman in a brightly colored Wegmans polo shirt who welcomes you as she cheerily arranges a floral display. You see the apples that you need, but you also see an array of freshly pressed juices in transparent bottles.

There's a green one that looks so healthy it could cure diseases, which explains its $7 price tag. It must be worth it. You place it in your small plastic basket and proceed to the apples. As usual, you are completely overwhelmed by how many varieties of apples that Wegmans carries. Do you buy organic or go for regular? You're already on a health kick with your green juice, so you opt for a bag of organic ginger gold apples.

As soon as you walk out of the produce section you see Nature's Marketplace. Obviously, since your series of health conscious produce section decisions of five minutes ago, you've decided to go on a health kick and are obliged to look at all the organic foods.

You walk down the aisles and convince yourself that you could live a healthy vegan lifestyle until you realize nothing in this section is under $10. Also, you see the fancy cheese section and decide you would much rather be a connoisseur of fancy cheese than a healthy vegan. You grab a few cups of Annie's brand easy mac, because that stuff is amazing, and proceed on.

When you enter the cheese section, you're greeted by yet another employee who seems much too cheerful to be working in a supermarket. Then again, this guy gets to sample cheese all day and sell it to other people. You think about it again, and realize this Wegmans employee is actually living the dream. He hands you a sample of brie cheese on a slice of baguette and you want to cry because of how delicious it is.

You also want to cry because five minutes ago you thought you were on a health kick, and that was the dumbest thought you've ever had since this cheese is the opposite of what healthy people eat. You're now obligated to buy the small wheel of brie cheese and a fresh baguette (or three) so you can enjoy this life changing cheese in the comfort of your own home. You know you'll eat the entirety of both items instead of having a real dinner. You don't care.

Your small plastic basket is now overflowing because you've deviated from your shopping list, but everything you've picked up thus far is just essentials you never knew you needed. You make your way back to the front of the store to exchange your basket for a cart. This requires that you cut through the cosmetics aisle, which is dangerous because Wegmans is the only supermarket you've ever been to that carries the entire ELF and NYX.

You stop halfway down the aisle to swatch an entire eyeshadow palette on your arm. You realize the very reason that every time you attempt a smokey eye it fails is because you don't own this exact Nyx eyeshadow palette. You carefully fit it into your overflowing basket knowing that Wegmans just helped you up your makeup game exponentially.

You finally make it back to the front of the store to the carts. You opt for the medium-sized cart instead of the large one that mothers of five use when they shop for their entire family because you feel like it will help you buy a more responsible amount of stuff.

You remember that you needed coffee, so you walk towards the coffee aisle. The coffee just happens to be kept at the end of the bulk foods aisle. The bulk foods aisle is full of endless possibilities and you decide to explore them. You start to fill a plastic bag with chocolate covered almonds until you realize that they're $13 per pound.

You decide to top the bag off with gummy worms because they're less expensive. You count this as budgeting and decide to reward yourself by adding more chocolate covered almonds to the bag. It was the thought that counted. Then the huge craft beer section catches your eye.

You see a coffee beer. You remember that you needed coffee, but coffee beer seems more interesting so you put a six pack in your cart. There's also pumpkin beer and chocolate beer. You applaud Wegmans for providing alcoholic alternatives to just about any food you would want to eat. You begin trying to pronounce the names of the beer in the international beer section and get frustrated by your inability to read German, and realize you still haven't bought any coffee.

You walk back to the coffee aisle and buy not one, but two bags of Wegman's "Jamaican Me Crazy" blend because nothing compares to a cup of that stuff in the morning. You realize you've been in the store for close to an hour, which is forty minutes longer than you'd originally planned. You decide to head towards the checkout but are sucked in by the prepared foods section before you even get there.

You may have visited the Grand Canyon, but you still have yet to find anything as beautiful as the Wegmans prepared food section. You realize that if you buy some of the prepared pesto, Caprese salad and fancy olives you can eat it all with your wheel of brie cheese for dinner and call it an "antipasto platter."

You realize that telling people you ate an antipasto platter for dinner is way more acceptable than telling people you ate a whole wheel of cheese with a whole baguette for dinner, so you go for it. You also throw some veggie lo mein and an egg roll into the mix, because it smells really good and you already decided you weren't actually on a health kick.

You finally make it to the checkout line. You were planning on going to the express check out line, but you realize you have a few too many items, so you don't because you aren't a terrible jerkface. You're a polite wonderful Wegmans shopper. A friendly high schooler rings you up, and you can tell she's only slightly judging you for what you're buying. Your total comes out to $80. You were only planning on spending $10, but you don't even mind that much. You load the bags of delicious goodness back into your cart and leave smiling, knowing you'll probably be back tomorrow.