‘Should I Ask My Fiancé Not to Go to a Strip Bar For His Bachelor Party?’

By Edwin Decker

Dear SWAT, my wedding is coming up in a month and I couldn’t be more thrilled. The only problem is, I can’t stand the thought of my fiancé going to a strip club for his bachelor party.

I swear I’m not a prudish person but the idea of him staring at all these women, getting lap dances, throwing money at them to see their private parts up close etc., truly creeps me out. At the same time, I don’t want him to think I’m some sort of controlling prude. I’m really not prudish or controlling at all. There’s just something about this activity that grosses me out. What do you think? Should I ask him not to go or keep my mouth shut?

Sincerely,
Not-a-Prude
Mission Valley San Diego

Dear Prudence, won’t you come out to play-ay-ay?

Just kidding! I don’t think you’re a prude. But even if you are, so what? You do you. It is your right, nay responsibility, to express your feelings to your mate so, by all means, make it known that you don’t want him to go to the Bouncing Betty Booby Club or wherever.

Not that I have a problem with strip bars. I think they’re swell for certain occasions. But it doesn’t matter what I think about them, or even what your fiancé thinks. What matters is what you think, or more to the point, what you think about what your man thinks about going to strip bars.

The two of you are about to enter a sacred (not necessarily in the religious sense) union and the only way to properly honor this union is for all parties to be honest and real with each other. If his ogling all those sublime, nearly-naked enchantresses twisting on golden, shimmering poles in dimly-lit clubs causes you dismay, then say so. Your wants and needs are neither right nor wrong and you owe it to yourself to express what it is you need from your partner. It’s either that or stew quietly for a year until you finally blow your lid and accuse him of betraying you on the eve of your wedding. And what do you think he’ll say? It’ll probably be something like, “Why didn’t you tell me how you felt back then, woman?”

You should want your husband to know what you expect of him and vice versa. This way you will both know whether you are able to fulfill those expectations. If it were me, and my fiancé had asked me not to go to, say, Leggy McGees Magical Mansion for my bachelor party, well, I’m not saying it would be a deal killer, but it would be a red flag. Not because I need to do the strip bar thing at all costs, but because MY sensibility is that of permissiveness. For both parties. To be free to do what we – within reason – want to do. I simply would not want to be with a woman who is, for lack of a better word, uptight about stuff – strip bars, porn, putting ketchup on omelets, whatever. Which is not to say that you are being uptight, or even, if you were, that it’s a bad thing.

I’m reminded of my bachelor party oh so many years ago. W. was the kind of woman who couldn’t care less if I went to a strip bar. We each had our respective bachelor and bachelorette parties in downtown Vegas. Lord only knows what depraved activities she and her gaggle got into that night but after a few hours of gambling, me and mine ended up at the now-defunct Glitter Gulch on Freemont St. It was in the Gulch, during my bachelor party, that I received the worst lap dance of my life.

True story. One of my groomsmen called her over and pointed at me. With the fakest of smiles she took my hand and led me to the back room. She sat me on a love seat and leaned in with elbows bent like a mantis. Then she placed them into my upper chest, transferring most of her weight onto my chest via her sharp, boney elbows. To my horror she began to wriggle causing the elbows to thrust deeper into my muscle tissue. As I cringed with pain, the world’s worst stripper began to – wait for it – berate me for receiving a lap dance on the eve of my wedding. The abuse went on for several minutes! While wincing from what felt like someone standing on my chest with high heels, I told her that she knows nothing about my fiancé or our relationship. “Not only is my fiancé aware I’m getting a lap dance tonight,” I spat. “But she would be horrified by your unprofessionalism!”

The dancer from the depths of Hell went on to say that she would never allow her husband to get a lappy, which I found hilarious given that she was probably going to undulate over another 20 strangers before the night was over and another 100 by the end of the week.

But that’s a matter of hypocrisy. Your situation is a simple matter of preference, to which you are entitled. As I said before, we all have our sensibilities and – to some degree – they need to sync with our partners’. This is why you have every right and reason to ask him not to go. But do so earnestly, without condescension or judgment.  Remember, his sensibilities are also neither right nor wrong. And for crissake, do not issue an ultimatum. Not yet anyway. Simply explain how it will make you feel if he goes. Tell him that you really aren’t trying to be controlling but you hate the idea of embarking on your sacred voyage this way. Tell him you will lap dance the crap out of him – in a Baywatch bathing suit and Pamela wig – for the rest of his life if he doesn’t go to that godforsaken strip club.

Hopefully he’ll stand down. If not, then go ahead and issue that ultimatum. But not in an ultimatum-ey way. Don’t say, “If you go to Willy’s Wonka Wonderarium, then I’m going to blow your best man.” Instead, simply say, “I respect your decision, what’s Joey’s phone number again?” Hopefully that will do the trick.

Straight up With a Twist Drinking Tip of the Month: Unless you’re going to a billiards hall, don’t bring your own cue into the bar. Just don’t.

Edwin Decker (of Ocean Beach) is not a licensed therapist or psychologist. In fact, his only qualification is the 25-plus years as a bartender listening to the liver-aching of desperados and dipsomaniacs. Heed his advice at your peril.

Send questions to ed@edwindecker.com