I think I might have a problem. I spend a lot of time in my garage now. Too much time, perhaps. Guess where I’m writing this post. Yep.
Let me explain. My man cave (and I hesitate to use the term because of its ridiculous popularity lately, but I have no idea how else to describe it) is a constant work in progress. I have done a whole lot of manual labor setting this space up. You have no idea how difficult it is to prevent your wife from storing all her unwanted crap in your garage.
It’s rather comfy out here, actually. I have a dirty black rug I rescued from a neighbor who abandoned it when he moved out. My dog loves it. Guess where he is right now. Yep.
I have a cheap lamp from Target—my wife’s only piece of unwanted crap permitted in my cave—and this burly clamp lamp attached to the rafters. The lighting in here is very soothing.
There is plenty of seating. Well, 3 chairs and a cooler. One of the chairs even has a footrest. Fancy, right?
And I have plenty of decorations out here. Maps, pictures of nature doing nature things, a collection of old press passes and backstage passes, bulk coffee bag (whatever, it’s cool), dart board, mullet wig, and some fish decoration we bought on clearance. I have one of those little iPod charger/radio thingys, too.
I enjoy being around my outdoor gear. Call me weird, but I like the idea of hanging out in a gear shop/living room which just so happens to be my garage.
I burn incense and smoke cigars out here, something I’m definitely not allowed to do in the house. I fart when I want. Something I’m highly discouraged from doing in the house.
Anyway, back to the problem. Me spending too much time out here. So I have one question for the dudes and one question for the ladies.
Dudes, how much time do you spend on average per week in your cave?
Ladies, would you suspect your husband or boyfriend had a problem if he started eating dinner out in the garage?