Adventures in Pennsylvania: Buying Beer

I'm living with two Fulbright Scholars that are part of a Foreign Language Teaching Assistant post-grad program. Gerardo, from Mexico, and Helen, from Germany, have been kind enough to welcome me in as part of their gang, living next to the Lycoming College campus where we're all teaching classes.

On day two, while attending the semi-final of the Little League World Series, Gerardo asked if I drink beer. I looked at him with a smirk. The class that I'm teaching for the month of September is IMS 252: "Brewing for Fun and Profit: The Ins and Outs of the Craft Beverage Business." Of course I drink beer. Damn near for a living.

“Yes, I sure do,” I told Gerardo. “Do you need some?”

Since he and Helen don't have car and there isn't a retailer in good walking distance when you have to carry beer or groceries, Gerardo asked if I'd pick up some beer for him. I obliged. He's 29 and Helen is 22, so no issues there.

That evening I went to a grocery store to procure beer for the house. Gerardo had told me a little bit of what he drank back in Mexico, mostly a beer called Indio, a German-style amber lager brewed in Mexico. Of course that can’t be found around here, so I picked out a six pack of Pilsner Urquell, a beer out of the Czech Republic that I enjoy but hadn’t had in a while, Negra Medello, a dark lager from Mexico, in case that worked better for my new roommate, a mixed twelve-pack of hoppy beers from Troegs, a Pennsylvania craft brewery, and four pack of 16oz double IPAs from New Trail, a craft brewery here in Williamsport.

I approached a checkout aisle that had a sign for alcohol purchases. I placed my beer on the conveyor belt and waited for the guest in front of me to finish. When my turn came and the beer made it’s way to the cashier, the elderly lady glanced a the beer, 28 in total, and then up at me.

“I don’t think you’re going to be able to get all of that,” she said with an innocent but stone-cold stare.

Baffled by what she meant, I smiled at her and with a lighthearted, joking tone I said, “Why not?”

“There’s a limit,” she explained. “We have a restaurant license, so you can only buy a certain amount and I think this too much.”

Just before the register, a posted disclaimer from the Pennsylvania government read, “192 fluid ounce limit on alcohol purchases.” That’s odd, I thought. Quick math told me that came to sixteen 12 ounce beers. For something sold in six packs and twelve packs, I found that to be an odd number, but alas, I turned my attention back to the cashier.

“A restaurant license? But you’re a grocery store,” I pointed out, as if she didn’t know where she worked.

She grinned. “Yes, but that’s the way a retail license works here. I can try to ring it up and see how much you can get.”

I agreed, and she thanked me for understanding.

“Oh, I don’t understand,” I exclaimed. “I’m from Louisiana, none of this makes sense to me. I am comprehending what you’re saying, but don’t think for a minute that I actually understand why!”

With that, I let her start scanning barcodes, knowing damn well that I’d only be leaving with a twelve pack. She scanned the Troegs then tried to scan one of the six packs before getting an error message. I laughed. She looked up at me.

“That’s going to be it,” she told me.

“So it goes. Do you want me put the rest of it back where I got it?”

“You can leave it here and come back to my register after you take this one to your car,” she explained. “I’ll watch it for you, just come back to my register.”

Now, even more puzzled, I really knew there was no point this archaic blue law. “So I can take the twelve pack to my car, then come back in and check out with twelve more beers?”

“Sure,” she shrugged. “If you still want them.”

I laughed again and sauntered off to my truck with twelve beers, only to drop them off then return to the checkout aisle where my other beers waited for me. The cashier again scanned my ID, then rang up the six pack of Pilsner Urquell followed by the sixer of Negra Modello. She went to scan the four pack of New Trail and I knew it wasn’t going to work. I’d be sixteen ounces over the limit. The computer rejected the beer, and I told her, “Don’t worry about it, I’m not coming back a third time.”

I later learned that all grocery stores only sell limited beer and wine as they operate under an old “six pack store” restaurant retail license that allowed for sub and hoagie shops to also sell a small amount of beer to go. Liquor and bulk purchases of beer and wine are all controlled by state-run alcohol stores. I’ve had plenty of experiences with state stores in my previous travels, but the Pennsylvania laws were new to me. However, this world of various alcohol laws in each state isn’t new to me at all. I wrote a paper in grad school linking economic development to blue laws, and I also produced and featured in a video about the three tier system of alcohol distribution. You can watch that video below!

If you care to help me support the service industry during my time in Pennsylvania and beyond, check out my “Buy me a coffee” page. All money collected through that site will get paid forward as generous tips to bartenders, baristas, and servers throughout my travels!