Don't eat here. The noodles are hot and they charge for them.

Well, let's review the score.

DMV: 7
Brent: 3, Women: 2, Drunk guys at the DMV: 1

I started Day #2 down by 4 but hoping to make up the difference. Before I left the ole apartment, I did a little inventory. Registration renewal slip: check. Emmissions test form: check. Checkbook: check. Good to go.

I headed down to the downtown emmissions testing site around 10:30, leaving more than enough time for me to counter some DMV trick and run play before it closed at 1:00. I tried to talk myself into a sense of confidence knowing that them DMV people smell and prey on fear. It took about 15 minutes to weed my way through traffic and actually find the damn place. But, despite what I'm sure was the testing site moving itself, I nailed it down and pulled into the parking lot.

DMV: 7
Brent: 4

There was a line. Of course there was. But, unlike the lines at the DMV sites, this one was moving. I was hopeful. And, there was some eye candy to satisfy my sweet tooth.

Three people in front of me, including the eye candy, ended up walking out the door quite unhappily without doing anything. This didn't look good. But, I was determined. "I'm good enough. I'm strong enough. And...I will get my registration sticker," I repeated to myself. I confidently stepped up to the window when my turn came after only 15 minutes in line.

"Hi, I need to renew my registration. Here's my emmissions test and my renewal slip," I stated in my best masculine yet sensitive tone. I smiled. DMV woman didn't. In fact, she didn't even look at me.

"60 dollars," she threw back. Apparently the glass barrier was happy-proof as well. She couldn't tell I was confident and assertive yet grateful and humbled. I wrote out the check carefully in my best, but butch, handwriting. If sissy writing was a reason for DMV woman to turn me away, I wasn't going to give her the chance.

"Here," she barked, starting to hand over my new registration printout. Almost home. Almost home.

"Wait...," she pulled back as quickly as her hand yanked back the printout.

DMV: 8
Brent: 4

"I can't take this check. It's from Hawaii...and it's in the hundreds," she said, looking up at me for the first time.

"But...but..." Nooooooooo. DMV rounded home as the ball whizzed past my catcher.

I wasn't sure if she knew that Hawaii was, in fact, the 50th state. Or, maybe it was the fact that it was a check numbered in the hundreds. I slapped myself on the inside for forgetting my copy of the U.S. Constitution...you know, the part about "Full Faith and Credit." Maybe the DMV, like the Health Department (that issues marriage licenses) was exempt. I should probably have done a findlaw.com search before leaving as well...something explicitly stating that Hawaii is in fact part of the United States...although good ole G.W. Bush may have changed something and I haven't heard about it yet. An atlas may have helped too (for G.W. in general and DMV woman for this particular instance). If it was the check, I've had the account for 8 years now; it's just my checkbook was stolen and I had the checking account changed...but the nice woman in Hawaii told me that I would be okay in the hundreds.

I tried to explain it to DMV woman. I thought about complimenting how fabulous her hair looked. Maybe I should have brought an XL bottle of Aquanet...you know, as a peace offering.

It didn't work.

"No. You're going to have to pay cash." She bunched together all of the printouts in front of her and tore them...not in half or fourths...but into little pieces.

DMV: 9 (point for DMV woman's drama)
Brent: 4

30 minutes later I returned to my apartment. Give up? Possibly.

45 minutes later, I had $80 in cash and a new game plan. I was going to find a check-cashing place. They do registration renewals. Yes. Yes. I had it this time.

30 minutes later, and I finally got to the transaction window.

"Hi, I need to renew my car's registration." I handed over the worn copy of my renewal slip.

"Just a second," said Sheniqua with the three-inch fingernails. Noooooo. Apparently I had chosen the only cashier who didn't know how to do car registration.

DMV: 10
Brent: 4

"I went to the training. She just didn't go over this part..." snapped Sheniqua at the two other cashiers who had made her way over to her. People standing in the other cashiers' lines bored a hole into my skull. I wrote down the number 5 on my hand...the number of minutes I bet myself would pass until a riot started.

At first, the transaction was going to cost me $63. Five minutes later, it was $67. One minute later it was $75. Three minutes later it was $61. "I think that's it. $61." I handed over the cash. Under the window she handed me my registration printouts and sticker.

DMV: 10
Brent: 6

I got to my car and carefully lined up the '06 sticker on the plate.

HHHHOOOONNNNKKKK.

Of course. Of course. Of course a fire truck blasted by me just as I placed the sticker over the plate....crooked...very crooked...so crooked it may give me O.C.D.

DMV: 11
Brent: 6

I got home and, just in case, looked up everything to do with registration on the wisconsin.gov site. OH...HELL NO.

Registration is $55. The late fee is $10. The lowest service charge for renewing in person is $5. The least amount I should have paid was $70. I paid $61.

DMV: 12
Brent: 6

Acknowledgements--- Thank you to all who contributed to my DMV experience: DMV man #1, DMV man #2, drunk guy, bra-less drama queen, emmissiosn testing site #1 manager, emmission testing site #1 DMV office woman, emmission testing site #2 DMV office woman, Sheniqua and the Milwaukee Fire Department...and citizens of Milwaukee.