By Erin Randolph erin@dmcityview.com

Or, how many times can we say 'shit' in one article

Some things should never be brought up in a public restroom. Even among friends. Even when you think you and your friends are alone.

So to the girl at Limey's on a recent Friday who thought it a good idea to detail that burning sensation she feels when she takes a dump: it doesn't matter that your insurance might not cover your doctor's visit. Get it checked out - and keep that shit to yourself.

The Bar Fly and Drinking Assistants Brian, Kerri, Nicole and Drew decided to head out to the West Des Moines British pub, located at 1970 Grand Ave., for a change of pace. Limey's is located in a strip mall - like everything else in the suburbs - yet still somehow manages to have an outdoor patio, essentially a makeshift setup on the sidewalk in front of the tiki-torched establishment.

Unfortunately, it's a little too nippy outside for us to brave the elements, so we head inside to order a few drinks ($6 domestic pitchers, $12 import pitchers, $3 domestic bottles) and shoot some pool on the lone pool table. We had feared it would be occupied, it being a Friday night, but taking a stroll down the long hallway to the poolroom discovered it was open.

In the main room, however, clusters of twentysomethings are chatting quietly at tables, minding their own business. This isn't the place to go to mingle, but rather to enjoy a relatively quiet and uneventful night (save strange bathroom encounters) with a group of friends or a significant other while drinking martinis with names like Abbey Road and The Londoner and marinating in the bar's very masculine dècor - lots of wood, dark colors. The tunes are even decent, thanks to a varied TouchTunes jukebox. We're a little curious, however, about the person who burned their money requesting tunes from "Moulin Rouge."

It's our waiter, Patrick, however, who serves up the bulk of the night's entertainment. Wearing thick, black eyeglasses and a ball cap, we notice a Social Distortion skeleton tattooed on his right calf. When he sees the Bar Fly bellied up to the bar taking notes, he asks if she's writing love notes, to which she replies she's not. That, instead, she's writing about the bar.

"My name's Patrick," he says. "You can put that in lights. I've got a personality that sparkles."

"Can I take your picture later?"

"Shit yeah. Naked or clothed?" he says. "Are you going to make me famous?"

Patrick's worked at Limey's for seven years. He's normally behind the bar.

"But I'm on the floor tonight," he says. "That's OK. That's where I can express myself the best."

He pauses.
"I'm full of shit, too," he says.

But apparently Patrick's a popular attraction at the pub, as customers keep coming up to give him hugs or to say goodbye, or in one woman's case, to let him know that he's her favorite. Though the two people tending bar weren't especially attentive to the needs of those seated right in front of their faces, we're excited about the possibility of having Patrick back there for some comedic relief. And that alone is reason enough to return to Limey's.

Bar notes

With Halloween right around the corner, it's never too early to start brainstorming for clever costume ideas in an attempt to sweep the local bars' contests. Down Under will have a costume party on Saturday, Oct. 29, (when daylight savings time ends, giving you an extra hour to party) at 9 p.m. Best costume wins $100, second place wins a $50 gift certificate, and third place receives a $25 gift certificate. Plus, anyone in costume gets one free drink at the bar. If you prefer British to Aussie, head on out to Limey's the same night for their contest. From 6 p.m. to close, the pub will offer up food and drink specials, and of course, prizes for the best costumes. CV

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