My buddy Joe left me a voice mail.

“Joe,” he said, dejected. “You let me down, bro. I thought for sure that my buddy in Los Angeles would be the one guy to throw a Las Vegas bachelor party. You’re killing me.”

Then he hung up without saying “goodbye” or “call me back.” My groomsman had only called to tell me how disappointed he was.

I knew that call was coming. I knew it when I agreed to a joint bachelor/bachelorette party with my fiancée. In Ohio. Not Las Vegas. A part of my brain—the part that refuses to hold her purse in public—said that I should not agree to a joint bachelor party. Man card stuff. But this other part of my brain—the part that hates strip clubs and likes having fun—said it was a good idea.

It was.

The fiancée and I hopped in a Ford Fusion Hybrid, road-tripped down to our college town (Athens, Ohio) and met up with two dozen of our friends. It was maybe the single best idea we’ve had since we got engaged. (Sorry, guy we hired to do the linens for the reception. You are a good idea, too.)

Be forewarned: The joint bachelor/bachelorette party is not for everyone. It worked for us. Maybe it will work for you. Maybe it won’t. In fact, it probably won’t.

If you’re not sure, take this 10-question quiz. Award yourself 1 point for every time you answer 1, two points for every time you answer 2, etc.

Take the Joint Bachelor/Bachelorette Party Test