I was passing through Brainerd recently on a voyage up to Grand View Resort near Nisswa and figured this would be my last chance to purchase beer and liquor for my stay. I had flown into MSP from Austin, Texas and was really excited to check out a Minnesota liquor store. Along for the ride were two friends, both residents of Minnesota, one of whom does not drink and was of little use in the liquor store aside from moral support.
I did not know what I wanted to purchase when entering the store, unlike many of the customers who I observed climbing out of their pickup trucks and bolting directly for the bottom shelf of the whiskey aisle. With so many choices, I decided I'd better spell my bladder first and headed for the restroom, conveniently marked with a "Restroom" sign and an arrow. I used the toilet, which to my surprise was surrounded by high stacks of old liquor boxes. Worried that the tower of boxes may be full of bottles thereby creating a hazard if they were to tip, I opened a few, and thankfully they were empty. Crisis averted.
I emerged from the restroom and continued to shop for alcohol. The beer cooler featured a lot of local favorites like Summit, Grain Belt Premium, and Surly. I was surprised to see a variety pack of Shiner from my neck of the woods. My eyes carefully scanned the coolers, back and forth, searching for the perfect beer. Something that said, "I'm on the road for a friend's bachelor party and want to let loose and have more than my fair share," but also something that said "I have refined my palate since the last time you've seen me, and I want to appear better than you." I wanted a beer that screamed sophistication, yet still showed signs of playfulness. That's when my eyes scanned a 12-pack of Beck's bottles featuring a special series of labels. Perfecto!
But would 12 beers be sufficient for 40+ hours of debauchery? Seeing my friend walking by with his 24-pack of a beer called Bud Light, I determined my 12er wasn't going to cut the mustard, so to speak. I gazed first at the wine aisle, then at the vodka aisle. No, no, these would not do. The fluorescent lighting in the store seemed to call my attention towards that same whiskey aisle that the probable regulars were frequenting. A 1.75-liter jug seemed like overkill, whereas a traveler seemed as if it would invoke laughter from my peers. The 750mL jug of Windsor, a premium Canadian brand, would suffice.
The store's layout of aisles allowed me to easily navigate back to the front of the store where several clerks were eager to collect my payment. When prompted to show my drivers license, the clerk took an extra second to examine, then gave me a quick glance, as I presented my out-of-state Texas license. No further questioning necessary, it was time to make the exchange of money for goods. When the total price was announced to me, I handed the cashier my debit card. She then pompously reached over the counter towards me and swiped it through the card reader which had been positioned for me to be able to do it myself. "Oops," I exclaimed. "I didn't see it there!" Needless to say, I was mortified. Tail between my legs, I signed the screen, collected my goods, and made my way out of the store.
Overall, this was one of the more unmemorable trips to a liquor store that I can remember. Cash Wise didn't stand out much in any way, other than its mid-range selection and appropriately merchandised end caps. The staff seemed like working at this store was a right, not a privilege. Would I shop here again if I were en route to Nisswa and wanted to get ripped? Sure, but not without a local guide, or perhaps if there were some sort of rewards program. read more