My wife and I are taking our daughter to Disney World today. We're at the airport, waiting for our flight to Orlando. It's delayed, so all of the chairs near the gate are full. There are two 40-ish white men sitting across from us, talking to one another. One seems to be travelling on business. The other guy is bald with a goatee, wearing a hawaiin shirt and tight short-shorts, sort of like the ones that the LA Lakers wore in the 1980s. He seems to be a walking mid-life crisis in progress. Here's some of what I overheard him say in conversation:
"I love my man cave. Love it.... Love. It. You don't know what a man cave is? Remember how you would build tree forts as a kid? It's like that. But for adults. Yeah, I have bar in there. With lights. When it's all lit up, it's sweet. I don't let my wife in there. I'm like, 'It's a 'man cave,' not a woman cave.'"
"My wife is so lazy. She's so lazy, she didn't even want to come on this trip with me. Hah!"
"Yeah, I ride a Kawasaki 1500...."