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Well, not quite. But I couldn’t stop thinking of Edgar Allan Poe’s terrifying short story, The Premature Burial, as my colleagues and I visited an “escape room” in Manhattan last week. In Poe’s story, the protagonist describes waking up from sleep to discover he is in a coffin and has been buried alive.
Before embalming was invented, this actually happened occasionally to a few unfortunate souls. We know this now because some graves were dug up and the coffins opened—and scratch marks were found on the inside of the coffins’ lids. Eventually, bells were installed outside many graves. A string ran from the bell to inside the coffin. If the person really wasn’t dead—and suddenly woke up—he or she could pull on the string and ring the bell for help. Hence the term, “Saved by the bell.”
Full disclosure: I'm significantly older than most of the people who participate in these escape room games. I suppose if you are a teenager or a 20-something celebrating a birthday you might find this fun. Not me. I'm also claustrophobic, probably the result of having once been trapped in an elevator by myself for two hours. Further, I experienced 911 up close, which still haunts me today. So admittedly, I brought a lot of mental baggage to my escape room experience.
My company took 12 of us to this popular NYC facility to do their Penitentiary Room escape exercise this week. Now, I have "done time" in a real penitentiary. Not as a prisoner, but as a volunteer working with inmates to stage a play (Brother Orchid) in the Federal Penitentiary at Leavenworth, KS. I was locked-in with these guys every night for a month. And let me tell you, there were no clues as to how to escape. But it was one of the best experiences of my life. I'm also a Vietnam era vet, so I have experienced a few scary things in my life.
But none of my life's experiences prepared me for the sheer terror I felt upon entering the so-called Penitentiary escape room. Let me explain.
First of all, I found the place tacky. Admittedly, that's a subjective opinion. But first impressions count--at least with me they do. The whole place looked like a cheap "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" movie set. Hey guys, what happened? Did you run out of money and couldn't afford to build a really nice facility? The flimsy coat rack falling over with all our coats on it was a dead give-away as to how much thought went into designing this joint. Indeed, for some bizarre reason there were even fake sawed-off bloody arms on display in the lobby. I guess they were going for the Halloween effect. But why?
And it was dark. At least the prison at Leavenworth was well lit.
The young receptionist was pleasant enough. But clearly he hadn't been trained in customer service. He just told us to, yeah, like, you know, let him know when everyone got there. When we had all finally arrived, he took us to our room.
The room's "foyer," was a non-descript cave about 15X15 feet. It was dark, so I can't really tell you what was in it, although I did trip over some kind of box on the floor (later, I would sit on it). At the far end of the cave were three jail cells--two side-by-side and one at a right-angle facing the other two--complete with real iron bars for doors. These cells were about 8ft-square, I'm guessing. The idea was to put four of us into each cell and then of course lock us in.
Well, one of the cells only had three participants.
That's because I just couldn't bring myself to be locked up like an animal in a cage for up to an hour with three other people. I went into one cell, started to panic--and then ran right back out. Fortunately, my boss and colleagues were understanding and said I could just stay in the foyer by myself while they were being locked in their cells.
Then the lights went off in their cells.
Each cell was equipped with a flashlight and a walkie-talkie with which they could call the receptionist for clue clarification if needed.
Let me be clear. These rooms are really locked. If there is a fire or other kind of emergency, you are totally dependent upon someone from the staff to get you out in a hurry. That was no doubt the crux of my fear. I serve on the emergency response team of my company. OMEscape did not instill in me any confidence whatsoever that if there were an emergency they would be able to handle it.
Pause now for a Big Duh! Think about it.
Pause some more.
When the receptionist left us--and exited through the main door to the foyer, I started to follow him out. I was too late. Even that door was locked. I pounded on the door with my water bottle, but clearly he was already down the hall, checking his Snapchat or whatever, and didn't hear me. So I stayed trapped in the foyer all by myself, taking occasional deep breaths, for about 45 minutes. All this time, listening to my colleagues (and barely seeing them when they turned on their flashlights) trying to escape from their cramped cells.
Oh, BTW, the foyer was not only dark, it was hot. Clearly their HVAC system wasn't working up to par. I took my sports coat off and sat down on one of the boxes I had tripped over earlier.
I was finally "rescued" when one of the room's walkie-talkies failed. I guess if this was a teambuilding exercise you could say it was a success because . . .
. . . one cell called out to another cell and asked them to call the receptionist and bring them a new walkie-talkie.
When the receptionist finally came back into the foyer with a new walkie-talkie I made my own escape through the door--which for his short visit he didn't feel was necessary to lock.
Saved by the bell.
(Note: The picture at the top is from the company's website; those people are not my colleagues.)
Before embalming was invented, this actually happened occasionally to a few unfortunate souls. We know this now because some graves were dug up and the coffins opened—and scratch marks were found on the inside of the coffins’ lids. Eventually, bells were installed outside many graves. A string ran from the bell to inside the coffin. If the person really wasn’t dead—and suddenly woke up—he or she could pull on the string and ring the bell for help. Hence the term, “Saved by the bell.”
Full disclosure: I'm significantly older than most of the people who participate in these escape room games. I suppose if you are a teenager or a 20-something celebrating a birthday you might find this fun. Not me. I'm also claustrophobic, probably the result of having once been trapped in an elevator by myself for two hours. Further, I experienced 911 up close, which still haunts me today. So admittedly, I brought a lot of mental baggage to my escape room experience.
My company took 12 of us to this popular NYC facility to do their Penitentiary Room escape exercise this week. Now, I have "done time" in a real penitentiary. Not as a prisoner, but as a volunteer working with inmates to stage a play (Brother Orchid) in the Federal Penitentiary at Leavenworth, KS. I was locked-in with these guys every night for a month. And let me tell you, there were no clues as to how to escape. But it was one of the best experiences of my life. I'm also a Vietnam era vet, so I have experienced a few scary things in my life.
But none of my life's experiences prepared me for the sheer terror I felt upon entering the so-called Penitentiary escape room. Let me explain.
First of all, I found the place tacky. Admittedly, that's a subjective opinion. But first impressions count--at least with me they do. The whole place looked like a cheap "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" movie set. Hey guys, what happened? Did you run out of money and couldn't afford to build a really nice facility? The flimsy coat rack falling over with all our coats on it was a dead give-away as to how much thought went into designing this joint. Indeed, for some bizarre reason there were even fake sawed-off bloody arms on display in the lobby. I guess they were going for the Halloween effect. But why?
And it was dark. At least the prison at Leavenworth was well lit.
The young receptionist was pleasant enough. But clearly he hadn't been trained in customer service. He just told us to, yeah, like, you know, let him know when everyone got there. When we had all finally arrived, he took us to our room.
The room's "foyer," was a non-descript cave about 15X15 feet. It was dark, so I can't really tell you what was in it, although I did trip over some kind of box on the floor (later, I would sit on it). At the far end of the cave were three jail cells--two side-by-side and one at a right-angle facing the other two--complete with real iron bars for doors. These cells were about 8ft-square, I'm guessing. The idea was to put four of us into each cell and then of course lock us in.
Well, one of the cells only had three participants.
That's because I just couldn't bring myself to be locked up like an animal in a cage for up to an hour with three other people. I went into one cell, started to panic--and then ran right back out. Fortunately, my boss and colleagues were understanding and said I could just stay in the foyer by myself while they were being locked in their cells.
Then the lights went off in their cells.
Each cell was equipped with a flashlight and a walkie-talkie with which they could call the receptionist for clue clarification if needed.
Let me be clear. These rooms are really locked. If there is a fire or other kind of emergency, you are totally dependent upon someone from the staff to get you out in a hurry. That was no doubt the crux of my fear. I serve on the emergency response team of my company. OMEscape did not instill in me any confidence whatsoever that if there were an emergency they would be able to handle it.
Pause now for a Big Duh! Think about it.
Pause some more.
When the receptionist left us--and exited through the main door to the foyer, I started to follow him out. I was too late. Even that door was locked. I pounded on the door with my water bottle, but clearly he was already down the hall, checking his Snapchat or whatever, and didn't hear me. So I stayed trapped in the foyer all by myself, taking occasional deep breaths, for about 45 minutes. All this time, listening to my colleagues (and barely seeing them when they turned on their flashlights) trying to escape from their cramped cells.
Oh, BTW, the foyer was not only dark, it was hot. Clearly their HVAC system wasn't working up to par. I took my sports coat off and sat down on one of the boxes I had tripped over earlier.
I was finally "rescued" when one of the room's walkie-talkies failed. I guess if this was a teambuilding exercise you could say it was a success because . . .
. . . one cell called out to another cell and asked them to call the receptionist and bring them a new walkie-talkie.
When the receptionist finally came back into the foyer with a new walkie-talkie I made my own escape through the door--which for his short visit he didn't feel was necessary to lock.
Saved by the bell.
(Note: The picture at the top is from the company's website; those people are not my colleagues.)
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