Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Man Cave

I have spent the week in the most awesome man cave. In London. Brits have a way of making a man cave complete. I wish I could articulate it. Let me try.

You walk buzz a console next to a black lacquered door down a plain alley in the business district of London. A voice answers and lets you in. You enter a black hallway with grey carpeting, and low lighting. A single staircase takes you downstairs three flights, past a festive looking christmas tree, and a small floral arrangement. An open door welcomes you into the registration room. This is a private club. 

A leggy blond takes your coat, and you have the distinct feeling there may be 1 woman for every 200 men that come here. Everything is done up in dark wood. As you pass through the door into the lounge area, a large floorspace tastefully broken up into half a dozen seating areas is set against a backlit bar. Each seating area is comprised of multiple leather arm chairs, and dark leather couches and ottomans. Small white orchids sit on every single table. The walls are lined with modern art and dark bookcases, in which quaint old-school man toys like old radios and robot toys are stored. I don't recall a single actual book. 

The waitress immediately asks you what you'd like, coming back quickly with your double espresso. Lunch is also available. Through the doors you can see a pool table. The only thing loudly lacking is a heavy overhang of cigar smoke, but perhaps that's due to the early hour. 

Deeper down the stairs are the meeting rooms, with such accoutrement as a large antique punching bag and gloves. The loos are labeled "Male" and "Male/Female", the latter of which is complete, fully integrated rooms. There is no "Female" loo. There are precious few females.

Every meeting room is outfitted with state of the art TV screens for presenting, and the regular meeting supplies of paper, pads, and remarkably theme-consistent black pencils made with black wood and black erasers. Each room seems equally comfortable as a dining room for a private dinner party. 

As you leave, hours later, with no concept of the time of day, weather, or even geographic location of your specific cave, you feel like you're emerging, up 3-5 flights of stairs, out of a dream land. And indeed, for many men, this man cave is as good as a dream.


1 comment:

Priya said...

how did you find this man cave? presumably it's where you host meetings???