A sage person once said that every man has a cave, My dear GM certainly did when we met.
|The Man Cave Before…|
I’m not sure if this goes for man caves in general, but I get the impression that they are the physical embodiment of that psychological space in every man’s life where no woman dares tread.
This was certainly the case for GM’s «office», which I believe had not been cleaned, and barely tidied, since his friend who sold him the flat bought it about eight years ago.
The first time I went in to clean, I had to scrub (myself) in the shower for about five hours afterwards, though I still felt a bit sticky after that.
No matter. I’m not much of a refurbisher, but I have to say I’m pretty happy with my job in GM’s office.
But, now that I’ve observed the vast internet literature on this topic, I’m a bit worried I’ve totally emasculated him by painting his office a nice light grey with an industrial look darker floor.
|I think the saddest BtVS episode. Apart from when her mum dies..
or when Oz leaves.. or..
I comfort myself by thinking that at least it’s not totally shabby chic with antique silver and vintage wood..
And it did help us sell the flat (woo hoo!), which is technically speaking his flat, so I’ve made him some money.
However, the whole thing is making me feel a bit Michelle Branchey (see Buffy episode Tabula Rasa in S6) on his behalf.
A more positive angle on this story would be to say that I’ve helped clear out his personal cobwebs and given his life new meaning to the extent where he no longer needs an office-sized ashtray in which to drink his Pepsi Max (still his drink of choice, so I’ve not totally erased his bachelor personality, right) while playing World of Warcraft.
But that would probably be a bit of an overstatement.