Around 1 p.m. on any given weekday, there are approximately 90 men and two women having lunch at DB's. Since this bar calls a self-effacing little brick building on a stretch of throwaway, near-abandoned street home -- meaning most patrons consider DB's a dining destination -- this ranks as a small phenomenon. But DB's gives its clientele what it wants. A TV set in every corner blares 24-hour sports programming, while waitresses swan around in teeny T's or outfits that require multiple modifiers: itsy-bitsy, neon-pink, strapless, Lycra. Weekend nights find DB's with a boisterous crowd and the ladies clad in naught but lacy underthings—it's as close as you'll get to a skin show on this side of the river. The menu is mostly straight-up bar food -- including DB's Famous, an open-faced sandwich made with melted Provel and ham atop French bread that's actually quite tasty. Surprisingly, there's also a touch of the down-home, thanks to daily, blue-plate-style specials like meat loaf, lasagna or roast beef. What, no breast of chicken?