"George's Mancave"
Sounds intriguing, no?
A little mysterious?
Maybe dangerous?
It's just down the street here in the condo complex, a "Gentleman's Club".
Run out of one of the garages by, one would presume, George. A discreet, hand carved sign by the side door is the only evidence of it's existence...
"George's Mancave"
I caught a glimpse of the inside several months ago when the garage door was up and George was hosing it out; even a Gentleman's Club needs a good Spring Cleaning. There were a couple of ratty looking couches and even worse looking barcaloungers. And a giant flat screen. What little ambiance it has is evidently provided by a wall of neon beer signs.
The dogs and I walk by it all the time and it's apparently where all of the men of the complex congregate, day and night. Handfuls during the week, but it can get to overflowing on the weekends. You can always hear the muffled sounds of manly men and televised sports and the occasional "Pffft!" of freshly opened beer cans. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say Pabst Blue Ribbon. With the recent hot weather George has taken to lifting the door a few feet for ventilation so now you can make out a gaggle of hairy man legs.
I've yet to receive an invitation and I doubt I ever will. And that's OK. As Groucho Marx famously said, I don’t care to belong to any club that will have me as a member.
Plus, I think a working knowledge of sports is required.
