My wife and I went to a standup comedy show in Provo last night at a place called "The Dry Bar Comedy Club".

My wife did one of those mobile facebook posts that identifies your location, just saying we were there.

The first response was from one of her TBM friends. It wasn't asking if we were having fun or what the show was about. The question was "Do they serve alcohol there?"

Of course then my wife was worried that everyone would see the post and think we were at a bar. I pointed out that we were at a place called the "Dry Bar" in Provo so it's probably not likely most people will think we are in a den of iniquity. And even if they do, outside of Mormondom, no one in the world, except maybe the Taliban, would care that we are in an establishment that serves alcohol.

Of course my wife was worried enough that she clarified there was no alcohol in a follow-up post.

Sounds like typical TBM thinking. Good thing they din't grow up in Los Angeles in the 1960's like me, they would have had a stroke. I had a paper route and stopping at a liquor store for a candy bar was the norm. There behind the cashier were hundreds of liquor bottles and by the entrance porno mags at the 6 foot level out of reach of little hands, keeping the appearance of evil down to a minimum. My mom was TBM yet it was not unusual for her to ask me to run down to the liquor store (convenience stores nowadays I guess) for milk or what not. Oddly enough with all that sin right in front of me, I didn't become addicted to booze or porno. Primarily because it didn't mean anything to me. Oh, and not to mention cigarettes everywhere, and still grew up as a non smoker. Is it a wonder Utah has so many vice problems. Oh and as a side note I didn't have TBM friends growing up and none of them had problems with aforementioned vice's even with it's ease of availability.

I would have handled the situation in a different way.

After thanking the respondent for their concern, I would have invited them to immediately come to my location to suck my cock.

In my experience, clarifying who is the boss in this situation--i.e., me, the boss of my life--accompanied with an invitation to perform fellatio goes a long way toward clarifying the rules and edifying all involved parties.