Earlier
this week I was in Washington, DC for an annual work event. We had a
large team dinner at the Smithsonian Museum of American History where
they divided all of the attendees into 33 teams of 10 or so people for a
scavenger hunt.
Most
self-respecting adults respond to a scavenger hunt with an eye-roll.
Aren’t we too old for this? In a history museum, nonetheless? I
pretended to eye roll too, making the appropriate comments about it
being a long day, let’s just get this over with. Secretly inside, I was
barely restraining myself from high fiving my new team and shouting
“let’s f this sh*t up!”. I subtly checked out the competition, who
looked unfocused and weak in comparison. I had to decide for myself if
this was going to be for fun or this was going to be to win.
So
as not to seem completely psycho to my newly met colleagues, I
pretended it was for fun while quickly organizing us into the secretary,
navigator and researchers, positioning us as a top competitor for a big
win. I even orchestrated finding clues in “innovative ways” (read:
Google on the smart phone) to skip parts of the museum that were further
away so our search was streamlined to pick up answers as quickly as
possible.
While
I’d like to take all of the credit for being slyly competitive, I
suspect there were a few others on the team who were taking this hunt
more seriously than meets the eye. We quickly completed our answers,
took a team picture and returned the Official Form to the hunt
administrators long before any other team arrived back. After
congratulating ourselves for the next hour on our cunning and speed
while the other laggard teams slowly made their way back, the winners
were finally announced...
Starting
with the 2nd runner up (not us). Whew. Oh wait, don’t look relieved,
this is just for fun. 1st runner up (not us). Whew. Oh wait, still
don’t look relieved, it’s just a good time. And the winner is....team
24! My team! I had to fight my better instincts of jumping up and
thrusting my fist into the air!
We
approached the stage to claim our grand prizes. I was a bit dismayed to
see the executive who was emcee’ing the evening was not planning to
give us time for a short thank you speech. We were the winners, weren’t
we? Shouldn’t they should us revery and respect? I elbowed a teammate
and said he should make a quick speech, but he thought I was joking.
Chuckle, chuckle of course I wasn’t serious (umm...well, I guess I
wasn’t serious since this executive WAS NOT handing over the mic.)
Oh
well, I had my grand prize bag in hand and was excited to return to my
table to see what loot we earned. I sat down...pulled back the
bag....to reveal....an American history trivia board game. WTF?!?! I
felt like Ralphie (from A Christmas Story) on Christmas morning as he
anxiously waited to unwrap a Red Rider BB gun, only to unwrap hideous
pink bunny pajamas. Where was my Red Rider BB gun? What am I going to
do with an American history trivia board game for ages 9+?
Feeling
slightly deflated, I did the only thing a true champion can do after
winning the challenge. I brought home my proverbial pink bunny pajamas
and then bragged about my victory on Facebook to my friends,
acquaintances and people I barely remember ever meeting.
What is the morale of this story? Winning feels good. At any age!
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