Drivers pull up, leave their cars idling and trot into the stucco building. In five or 10 minutes, they emerge carrying brown paper bags and boxes. Inside, the line is five to 10 people deep in the after-work crush. The air conditioning can't break through the damp heat. A clerk blows the bangs off her face as she bags a bottle of vodka.
"I've never been here before with a line like this," says Scott, who doesn't want to give his last name as he leaves. He shrugs, "But it's a Friday."
The state is building a new liquor store across town. It can't open soon enough.
In an unusual move, the Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control offered Jacobsen Construction a bonus earlier this year if the liquor outlet were open by mid-November. Then, crews hit bedrock. They won't get that cash after all. Now, DABC officials are hoping for a Christmas opening. Even then, the store will be obsolete.
"It's very busy," says John Freeman, DABC deputy director. "The demand is still going to be greater than the new store will handle."
Such is the business of government liquor sales. Profits were up 8 percent last year, pouring $47 million into state accounts. Sales this year were up 11 percent, as of May. With Utah's demographics changing day-by-day (i.e., fewer teetotalers), the state is barely quenching the thirst for something stronger than 3.2 beer.
While politicians in cities limit the number of taverns and clubs that can open and politicians in state government ratchet up penalties for drunken driving, Alcoholic Beverage Control managers take a more capitalistic approach to their socialized state monopoly. They take customer service almost as seriously as they do underage drinking.
"The state is in the alcohol business," says Freeman. "We have the responsibility to provide for those that wish to drink."
Park City, Riverton, Salt Lake City and St. George will get new liquor stores in the next year. Select outlets have extended hours until 10 p.m. And the state is expanding its inventory to include $1,000 bottles of wine for some restaurants and a $1,600 bottle of bourbon on the shelf in Park City. And if offering a bonus to a contractor - a first - accommodates drinkers while generating more money for the state, so be it.
"It's just good business," says Cottonwood Heights Republican Sen. Carlene Walker, who leads the charge every year to tighten DUI penalties. "If there's a demand not being met there, [the state] ought to make the profit. I don't see any conflict there."
In that way, state liquor watchdogs are just as pragmatic as their St. George customers.
"You do what you have to do," says Cassie Maw, waiting her turn in line.
walsh@sltrib.com
