The Department of Motor Vehicles: a drab, dank institution, put on this earth for one reason alone — to punish the masses for being inherently brutish. Ordinarily, when one visits this monument to futility, the experience is enough to ruin the day, or even the entire week. However, this is not the case in Binghamton. You see, the DMV is almost directly across the street from a pleasant little pub known as the Brass Rail.

Having just been informed that a $50 cost is imposed upon young adults for their mandatory license renewal at age 21, we make our way to the Brass Rail, our wallets almost entirely purged already.

While the outside is not much to look at, the inside is a festive tribute to everything Irish. Complete with “Erin Go Bragh” banners, framed portraits of our nation’s two Irish-American presidents (John F. Kennedy and Ronald Reagan), and a large mural of Blarney Castle, the Eire reins supreme at this pub.

Looking down from the Brass Rail’s painted green ceilings, immediately this bar’s other theme becomes apparent — inexpensive drinking.

As our eyes scan the bar, they are immediately drawn to the four boxes of Franzia lain side-by-side, adherent to the register. Moving on, our optic nerves are set ablaze by the realization that Pabst Blue Ribbon is available in draught form. Not only does the Brass Rail actually have Pabst Blue Ribbon on tap, but its dispersal fee is a very Pabst-esque $1.25 a pint.

Our pints of PBR safely in hand, we drift past a local chap who has just entered in grand fashion, brandishing a 40 oz. beverage of the malted variety, and a bottle of Miller Light in a plastic bag.

As always, Pabst has heightened our senses, and suddenly we notice that the Brass Rail is well-stocked in the gaming department. Sure, there are the usual bar staples, such as pool, darts and foosball, but what is that long 2- to 3-foot wide table over there? Perhaps we’ll just SHUFFLE over for a closer look. My goodness! This bar abounds in shuffle board glory!

It’s 3:30 p.m. on a weekday. There are eight other people at the Brass Rail, and each appears to be severely inebriated, especially “40-Man” who is reveling in a double-fist heaven.

Another day at the Brass Rail, another successful rebuff of the DMV’s onslaught on sanity.

Perhaps a few months from now, fair reader, when your license’s suspension is lifted, you’ll stop by the DMV for reinstatement, and then drop into the Brass Rail before heading home.