The ##

John Ashbery Waffles VI, son of billionaire shipping magnate John Ashbery Waffles V, has recently been cut out of his father’s will due to a mishap involving a Malaysian crack den, an Israeli-made flamethrower, and a leather-bound copy of the complete Andrew Marvell anthology, the spine of which is now severely damaged. In order to secure some quick cash, “Jack” Waffles, as he is known to his friends, has joined The ## team, where he will columnize every so often. This is his first advice column.

DEAR JACK: A few weeks ago, I met a group of friends at a local pub. “Charlie” was the designated driver. As the evening progressed, I noticed Charlie was drinking beer. When I mentioned it, he said he’d had only three. Then he insisted he was fine and “it was only beer.” I tried to explain the danger of driving while “buzzed” and told him I’d walk home. Charlie then became insulted that I didn’t trust him to know his limits. He said I should relax and quit being so uptight. A few days later, some of my friends told me I had caused “unnecessary drama” that night and that my standards for the designated driver were “unrealistic.” They also said that Charlie wasn’t drunk and was totally capable of driving. But the fact remains, our designated driver wasn’t sober, and I wasn’t comfortable getting into a car with him. I voiced my opinion; now I’m being punished for it. Did I judge Charlie too harshly? — VALUES MY SAFETY, DAVIS, CALIF.

DEAR MY SAFETY: Simple! Stop being such a pussy. It’s probably dangerous to have unprotected sex, but that’s fun too!

DEAR JACK: My husband and I generally agree on most major issues. We agree to disagree on the minor ones. But there is one issue I think is major and he thinks is minor — strip clubs. He sees nothing wrong with having women give him lap dances. He compares it to seeing a movie — it’s “entertainment.” Abby, I’m not a prude. I wouldn’t care if he went to a strip club for a bachelor party, and I don’t object about his extensive porn collection. But it makes me feel he isn’t getting what he needs from me when he goes to a strip club by himself. I expect my husband to understand and respect my feelings. Is that too much to ask, or am I being unreasonable? — THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT? IN SALT LAKE CITY

DEAR SALT LAKE: You need to chill the fuck out, as well. Lucky for you that one of my bachelor’s degrees happens to be in evolutionary psychology: Men weren’t designed to sit home with you, watch The Bachelorette and eat ice cream. No, no! They were out hunting buffalo, bedding women, and inventing freedom. This is a good sign that your husband is a red-blooded male. Go to Amateur Night!

DEAR JACK: I have a good friend, “Gina,” whom I have known more than 35 years. I relocated 1,500 miles from her recently, and would like to invite her to visit me. The problem is, I want her to come alone. My husband and I have no desire to entertain her husband, “Sam.” Sam is a verbally abusive know-it-all on every subject who monopolizes every conversation, allowing no one else to get a word in. The few times we went out together as a foursome, my husband came home with a pounding headache. How do I tell Gina I would love for her to come, but to leave Sam home? I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but we will no longer tolerate his self-centered personality nor the way he treats my friend. P.S. None of Sam’s family will invite him to stay for the same reason. — NO ROOM AT THE INN IN MISSOURI

DEAR IN MIZZO: Have you ever thought that maybe you just don’t know much about anything? Maybe if you were a better conversationalist, then Sam wouldn’t have to carry the fucking conversation all day. If you really can’t make yourself interesting enough to get a word in, get blitzed before his arrival. Maybe some hallucinogens? His ramblings will be much more interesting.

Do you have a question for Jack?