While this column, and my own well-being, would probably have benefited from an Orientation Week spent outdoors accomplishing any number of the 161 things which involve the gorges, I must confess that I spent most of my time inside. Rather than sitting out on a rock enjoying the last few days of summer, I wasted hours watching TV, playing on Schedulizer and sleeping.

The largest chunk of my time, however was not spent sitting in my apartment but instead shuttling back and forth from Collegetown to Wegmans. In my first nine days in Ithaca, I managed to find reason to go to the grocery store eight times. On my first night back at school, my apartment’s electricity was out and I needed a flashlight. A mere twelve hours later, I had a craving for a Wegmans salad. A few days later, it was Wegmans sushi. Just before sitting down to write this column, I received a call from Karen at Wegmans dry cleaning and am embarrassed to say that I recognized the sound of her voice.

Wegmans has clearly played a mortifyingly central role in my college life. Unfortunately for my quest to complete the Big Red Ambition tasks, it doesn’t seem to have had the same importance to the compilers of the list. Wegmans’ sole appearance is #62: Go to Wegmans on a Friday or Saturday Night.

To those of you who limit Wegmans trips to waking hours, let me tell you, you’re missing out. There are few other cars in the lot, so you’ll have your pick of parking spots. This means that when a surprise downpour begins just as you are walking out of the store, your groceries will only get sort of wet. The prepared food section of Wegmans is also closed in the middle of the night, meaning no temptation to try the new Indian bar, even though you already ate dinner and a late night snack. If it isn’t already apparent, #62 is an item on the list that I’ve had the opportunity to check off more than once.

My first after-hours trip to Wegmans took place during the fall of my freshman year. In fact, it was my first trip to Wegmans ever — late-night or not. After a pretty standard night out, I went back to my friend’s dorm to hang out and pick apart the events of the evening. Someone suggested a trip to the grocery store, and being hungry and not entirely coherent, we quickly agreed.

I called my best friend from high school, who goes to college in California, and asked her if she thought Tops would be open. She probably asked herself why we were still friends. So we drove to Tops, found out it is not open at 2 a.m., and headed to Wegmans.

It was magical. My parents are the sort who refused to believe they had agreed to send me to school in a place without a Whole Foods. So, after setting up my ResNet in order to Google the nearest location and prove me wrong, they immediately took me to GreenStar Co-op to stock up my dorm room fridge. Alhtough GreenStar is wonderful, as soon as I walked in I realized that nothing — not Tops, not Whole Foods, not anything — can compare to the sheer mouth-watering grandeur of Wegmans.

We were ready to make a beeline for the bakery, but the pile of shopping carts at the front of the store caught our eye. We’d inadvertently discovered another benefit of nighttime Wegmans runs — no one there to judge your behavior.

I hopped on the seat of an electric cart and started to accelerate. I quickly realized, however, that the cart was tied to the wall and I wasn’t going anywhere. I searched for a brake, but to no avail. As it turns out, those things are a lot less powerful than one would think. The force of the tie was enough to keep me from riding around the store and so I sat there, still unable to turn off the cart, laughing so hard I almost cried.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my two Jewish friends, also in hysterics, attempting to buy a Christmas tree. #62 was the perfect introduction to Wegmans