There are many perks of being a man; some I can’t list here because I’ll run the risk of being too explicit for the work environment, but one of the greatest is allowing ourselves a space just for us. A man zone. A man cave, if you will. Oftentimes our houses, though, are monuments to female empowerment; her books are everywhere, her clothes strewn across the floor and whatever hobby she is currently spending too much money on is probably dominating another room in the house.
So we are forced outside, into the wilderness, where man and beast become one, in our true, natural surroundings. But the garden is cold, and with limited power supplies it makes it extremely difficult to watch football while sat on the grass like a hippy. So we build sheds. We put locks on the doors and we become men in those sheds. We have power tools, garden tools, maybe a pool table or a table tennis table. Something manly.