We’re watching you
Really. We are.
It ends up making for a hilarious hour.
Your success is our success. Your struggle is our struggle. We cheer for you and applaud like an idiot on our own in the lobby when you crack a code.
When your team arrives, we’re immediately judging you. Is this going to be a good team? Does every team member make the same joke when I tell you there’s nothing hidden in the ceiling?
And then we snap you into handcuffs or separate one member of your team from the rest. We might hand you a flashlight or a walkie talkie and wish you good luck.
Then we watch.
In the first ten minutes, we’re sussing you out just as much as you’re sussing out the room. By the time you’ve solved the first puzzle, we’re personally invested in your adventure and we’ve probably figured out your brother’s name and where you went to high school.
Okay just kidding. We’re not THAT invested but we are anxiously checking the timer to see if you’re on track.
32 minutes to go.
You’re on the hardest puzzle in the room and one member of your team is insisting they know the right answer … everyone ignores them.
“Listen to the guy in the plaid shirt! He’s right!” I’m whispering to myself in the lobby, picking at my fingernails and clicking a pen repeatedly.
You’re so close to a win.
17 minutes to go.
If you keep solving at the rate you’re solving, you’re not going to make it to an escape.
“Ask for a hint, ask for a hint.” I’m clutching the walkie talkie, willing it to chirp.
14 minutes to go.
“Can we have a hint?”
FINALLY. I jump off my stool, pause your timer and quick step to your room.
Knock knock.
“Hey guys!” I call as I enter the room. Inevitably, someone screams because I’ve scared them. You asked me to come in here, remember?
A quick hint (you should have been listening to the guy in the plaid shirt) and you’re well on your way.
The seconds count down. 7 minutes to go. 4 minutes to go.
It’s 2 minutes to go and you’re yelling out the numbers for the final puzzle to each other. My thumb is poised over the stop button on the timer. I might even be standing outside the door waiting for your triumphant escape.
BEEEEEEP. 43 seconds left on the timer and I hit stop and cheer along with you as you exit the room.
Congrats team. We did it.