Escape from Los Angeles

by Allyson Haas

Come with me and escape...from potty training.

From the title of this rant (and/or reading my previous posts), one might surmise that C's inability to pee in a toilet has officially driven me to madness.  While that is indeed a perfectly accurate assumption, it's not quite the direction I'm headed.  Not today anyway.

After a weekend full of kid's parties (and perfectly wrapped gifts, natch), the Haasband and I decided to join the rank and file of general humankind and actually left the house on Saturday night.  In clothes.  I wore makeup.  We ate dinner after 5:30pm.  It was a bona fide date night.  What was even more amazing than that fact alone, is that there were other couples involved, which meant the topic of conversation revolved around things happening in the world at large, as opposed to just what's not happening in my bathroom.  This joyous happenstance alone felt like escape enough to fuel the title of this post, but there's more.  What did we do, you ask, to inspire an entire blog post?  Well, with bellies (over) full with a delicious repast from (no longer) new Jon & Vinny's, we headed over to RoomEscape Los Angeles.  Described as "a live escape game...players have 60 minutes to overcome a series of brain twisting puzzles to complete the mission.  Ideal for friends, family, colleagues, students, gamers and thrill seekers."

Well.  I am always on board for an adventure, so I was totally into it the minute I got the email from our friends.  I hate to pass up any opportunity; I can't stand the thought of missing a beat.  I think there's actually an official name for this type of reaction: the interwebs claim it's FOMO or Fear Of Missing Out, but I prefer to call it Bored Housewife Syndrome or, perhaps more fittingly, Mommy Needs Adult Time.  I comfort myself with knowing I'm not the only one who suffers from this ailment - heck, Mindy Kaling turned her FOMO into a bestselling book.  Needless to say, at this point in my life I will accept an invitation to watch paint dry so long as the walls on which it is drying are not my own, and I don't have to keep any children from touching anything.

When we arrived at the destination, the space looked completely nondescript.  A back door leading to a depressing lobby wherein we were told to sign some waivers and wait our turn.  The faces of the folks leaving the room after their allotted time slot were not a promise of any potential fun, nor was the incredibly boring presentation about how best to approach this adventure.  But again, I didn't care.   I was out without my child, I was two glasses of rosé into whatever we were about to do, and my expectaions were subzero.

Cut to 46 minutes later.

I don't think I've had that much fun with my clothes on since I knew how much fun could be had with my clothes off.  It was such a hoot.  You get locked in a room with some good friends, some flashlights and a few set dressings.  We were instructed to pay close attention to every detail, and leave no stone unturned.  Everyone would bring something another may have missed, as everyone's eyes see the room differentlly.  Oh how true that was!  It was a total blast to see how each person's individual perspective came together to solve the puzzle.  It was the euphoric feeling of completing the NYT crossword puzzle (which the OCD in me must do every morning before leaving the house) multiplied six fold.  I'm contractually obligated to not say anything more about this adventure, save for telling you how amazing it was and how much fun was had.  If you love brain teasers run, don't walk, to check this out.  It is that good.

Now if only it were so easy to escape potty training, tantrums, and sleep regressions, we'd be in business.