I come not to accuse Patsy's Irish Pub's patrons of spreading social diseases—though they are a shrieky lot, an odd Mission Viejo mix of doughy bruisers and girls in Uggs. I come not to discuss its very loud nightlife, which begins when Happy Hour dining ends and the karaoke machine swells with '70s yacht rock. I have nothing to say about the oval bar itself, which seems as wide as a track stadium and dark as your soul. I have little to say about the serving wenches, beyond that they are... More >>>