What’s it like working at a Utah liquor store during the holidays? Robert Gehrke gets a taste.

“Do you have any bourbon cream?”

I’d only been on the job for about 45 minutes and I’d already been stumped.

Not only was I not sure if the store had bourbon cream, I’d never even heard of it (although it sounds delightful).

“I don’t actually work here,” I tried to explain.

“So you’re just stocking bottles for fun?” the customer asked, rightly confused.

I went to find someone who could help him, rather than dive into the convoluted explanation which is this: In November, Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control executive director Tiffany Clason told Fox 13 she had invited DABC commissioners to come work a shift at a liquor store so they can appreciate what it’s like to juggle stocking and selling millions of dollars of booze during the frenetic holiday season.

While I’m not on the commission (just a little hint in case Gov. Spencer Cox is wondering what to get me for Christmas), I was intrigued, so I arranged to work a “shift” — actually it was only two hours — to see what it was like.

At the very least it might give me something to fall back on when The Salt Lake Tribune is finally sick of me.

They set me up in the wine store on 300 West, possibly the bourgiest and best-run stores in the state. These guys know their stuff, so it was a good place to learn, but possibly not reflective of the typical experience.

I was also working alongside Jacquelyn Orton, a DABC commissioner who has taken up Clason’s offer with gusto. That night was her second at the wine store and she had three future dates set up at other locations.

“I want to understand what people in the stores are doing or going through. … I want to talk to customers and staff. I love meeting the staff,” Orton said at the end of our stint. “I think it’s interesting to talk to the staff and get their take and also the customers, to hear what they have to say. The fly-on-the-wall sort of thing. I really enjoy that.”

Clason, who was helping us out at the store, too, said almost all of the commissioners had scheduled time at stores around the valley within 24 hours of her making the offer.

The work, itself, as you might expect, is pretty tedious.

An assistant manager led me through the normal stocking process, walking the aisles with a digital scanner, looking for shelves that might be running low and zapping the bar code. The scanner recorded details of bottles that need to be restocked and spit out a printout of the list. Next we went to the back, pulled the cases of bottles and loaded them on a hand truck.

We’d drop off the cases in front of the display where the bottles needed to go and then move from case to case, slicing open the top and shoving the bottles into the empty spots. Then repeat the process: squat, slice, stock, stand, squat, slice, stock, stand.

After even a dozen or so cases, the knees are starting to feel it.

There weren’t any shipments coming in when I was working, but the next night the store received 1,000 new cases that had to be unloaded, inventoried and stocked, Orton told me. I also missed out on preparing orders to be picked up by bars and restaurants and was fine standing back and watching the clerks checking IDs and ringing up sales.

None of it is terrible work, nor is it the greatest job on earth. And until recently the starting full-time wage for these liquor store workers was a paltry $11.32 an hour. So it’s not surprising that employees weren’t staying on the job for too long.

Turnover at one store was a shocking 140% per year and throughout network was 86%, meaning employees didn’t have much experience. If you shop at DABC stores regularly, you may have noticed. It was also costing the state $1.2 million to recruit replacement workers and get them trained.

It’s indicative of a paradox that is the core of Utah’s liquor distribution system: Unlike other agencies that provide state services, DABC sells a product and turns a profit — a big one. Last year, the department turned $215 million in profits on more than half a billion (with a B) in sales. It is unclear what percentage of sales were bourbon cream.

It is expected to run like a business, but unlike any other business it has to turn to the Legislature to do something as simple as set employee wages.

That may be changing.

Earlier this year, the Legislature passed a bill to bump up the starting wages by $2 per hour. Going forward, the wages will adjust automatically each year to meet the average Utah wage for retail employees.

“It fundamentally changes how these employees are compensated,” Clason said. “Instead of having to go hat in hand every year [saying], ‘They need raises, they need raises, they need raises,’ ” from here on forward it will bring them up to market, at least to where it’s competitive with Target and Walmart and everybody else.”

Clason said it’s hard to tell amid pandemic-related labor shortages if its working yet.

Hopefully it does, and the customer experience at these state run monopolies improves and we recognize the value these employees provide. Because having spent even a short time in one of these stores, I developed a better understanding of the work they do — as well as an appreciation for bourbon cream.