What do Moms, Coupon websites, and budget-savvy friends have in common? Innate common sense and a zealous impulse to share their advice. That being said, all of these sources of wisdom are always saying to buy stuff out of season. That girl with the killer wool coat she scored for $30, probably bought it in July. Stock up on bathing suits in August, and buy all the summer beer you could ever want or need in August and September. Just like with retail’s cyclical selling season, beer distributors and bodega’s alike are trying to get a ton of back-stock out of their stores.
While I could never come to terms with spending my cold-hard cash on woolly outerwear I couldn’t immediately wear off the rack, the beauty of seasonal beer is that you can drink it all year long. You may look like an asshole wearing a trapper hat in August, but if you’re drinking some Summerfest Ale or what have you the first week of September, that just makes you look like a sensible alcoholic. So what if your beer has the California Raisins dancing on the front of it or Jimmy Buffet drinking out of a coconut, it tastes the same if you drink it now or 3 months ago. And while I start to crave pumpkin anything as soon as the first leave turns yellow, I don’t want to spend $12 on a six-pack for myself.
Despite there being four deli’s all facing each other on the intersection I live on, they’ve all agreed to abandon “competitive pricing” altogether and start an overpriced beer fascist regime. Just because you sell fucking organic pork rinds does not mean you can double the mark-up on beer. Budweiser is not an import. So during my beer boycott from these places, I discovered some massive discounts on summer beer on the local grocery store. It ranged from major breweries like Blue Moon and Sierra Nevada to smaller and local craft beers. What normally runs for $9 and up (yes yes I live in New York and things are ridiculously expensive) are now being sold for $5-$7 a six-pack. So next time you reach for that tempting Oktoberfest, wait til December and it’ll be sitting on the shelf all alone, calling your name.
Photo Courtesy of: Creative Loafing