Even if we had space in our miniscule Manhattan apartment, I don’t think I would have a man cave.
For one, I seriously doubt Holly would appreciate pizza boxes strewn around, video games constantly on stand-by, or my guy friends coming and going as they please. At least, that’s how I imagine a man cave would operate. A recent article on Psychology Today just proves that it’s a bad idea, not only for my sanity (ie, not turning into a caveman -- get it?) but also for Holly and I’s relationship well-being. The whole idea that men have these places they escape to and revert back to their manly chest-beating ways, raises a huge red flag for any relationship, and no one needs this story to tell you that.
“The deceptive man can retreat to his Man Cave and take off his costume, wash off his greasepaint, kick up his heels and relax with a languid smoke before he has to return for his next scene,” says the article. But, if you’re unable to be yourself around your spouse, be it watching the shows you want or eating the food you prefer, then you’re probably not with the right person. Of course, there are some exceptions -- I mean, you all know how I feel about farting (and how it shouldn’t be done around Holly), but that’s just common courtesy. It’s called trying, people. Keeping the illusion of lack-of-flatulence alive in our marriage truly does help.
But I gotta say, I couldn’t agree more that man caves are a bad sign in any relationship. I mean, picture this guys -- what if your wife had this space in your house totally decked out in Housewives of Jersey memorabilia, Sex and the City posters and a makeover station? I get the chills just thinking about it. Sure, Holly would never do this, but I imagine the worst.
What do you guys think -- are man caves a symptom of something bigger or just a place to watch the game and eat way too many buffalo wings?