World’s Worst Escape Room

This escape room, called “Fred Meyer on Interstate” (alternately “Javert’s Playground”) isn’t even advertised as such, which is unfortunate because you go in thinking you’re just going to grab a couple things and leave, but nope: escape room from hell.

Apologies in advance for the slight TMI, but I accidentally visited this escape room due to a dry skin+stress=horribly itchy skin situation. My doc recommended some Zyrtec and CeraVe, so there I was. Innocent. Hopeful. On a mission. Little did I know.

I entered the store and went right to the medicine aisles. I circled. I circled again. I located a plethora of children’s antihistamine but absolutely no amount of close scrutiny revealed anything for the adult crowd. I go to the pharmacy where I spend twenty minutes in stasis for the chance to inquire whether or not said item was behind the counter. At long last, it is revealed they have one (1) box of off-brand Zyrtec but nothing “non-drowsy.” Fine for tonight. But, oh hey, I say, what if you, and hear me out, had a sign telling people to go to the pharmacy? It would save them time. But nay, she says, they DO have it on the shelves. She personally has purchased it, once upon a dream.

The saga continues. I attempt to return to whence I came, but lo, what’s this? Metal bars guiding me to the exit where security will check my receipt! Alas, my task remains unfinished, I cannot yet leave. I am forced to make my way, against traffic, through the checkout zone to get back to the store.

The Zyrtec. Where could it be? I scan the shelves, at my wits end, to no avail. But, oh! Heavens! It’s in the oTHeR area. The SpCiAL pLaCE. The zone with the make-up and the polish. This unattended locale where you must “PAY HERE OR FORFEIT YOUR LIFE." I pursue the random selection of segregated items. Why only is the ADULT Zyrtec here? Why not also the childrens? Why only SOME of the medicine and not ALL? Look to the heavens, Reader, for these are questions only the gods can answer.

Now it is time to find the CeraVe. I shan't be fooled again. I look carefully at the signage, but nothing indicates that it is here, in this land of most coveted items. I venture back out but it is nowhere. Nowhere. Nowhere. Nowh- wait. It IS in the protected zone. Its presence is indicated by a sign hidden behind a large pillar. It is, like precious treasure, collected! I nearly cry from relief. My tasks are nearly complete and maybe I will escape this prison at last.

Ha ha ha. No.

With approximately three staff members checking out 10% of the Portland Metro Area, I am forced into the dreaded “self-checkout.” The Final Boss.

After much waiting and some troubles ("Assistance is on the Way!"), I'm done. Now I just need to show my receipt to a bored security guard so that he may festoon it with a yellow highlighter to prove I have not STOLEN from this PaLaCE. Once, I was an American, innocent until proven guilty, but here at the Fred Meyer Escape Room, I am a potential thief in a maze. I am a desperate rat who must wave a slip of paper no one looks at to show I am worthy of taking my cheese and exiting this foul place. Somehow, the entire store has become a homage to pointless security measures designed to prevent the slightest theft, at the cost of any charm, community goodwill, or general logic. And in case you wondered, that stress related itching has reached new heights.

Why have I come to this place, this devil’s haven, where some things are here, and for no reason, and without explanation, other things are there? Where upon arrival, I was a woman of substance, now I am only a shell, desperately trying to not angrily shriek at the very few minimum-wage workers who haunt this place like ghosts. Once I had dreams, but now I dream only of the wine that waits for me at my home.

What’s on your list today? If it’s extreme frustration, wasted time, and a sincere desire never to return, you’ll find it...

Don't be afraid if the Not-so-secret Service follows you about acting like they're shopping but actually eyeballing you out of the corner of their eyes. It's just how they act there. You and I both know you're not stealing (right?), and that's all that matters. For a bit of fun, if you're bored, act suspicious and watch the cloak and dagger antics get practically Academy Award worthy.

As far as grocery shopping goes, prices are typically fair, to sometimes good, and occasionally even great, and there's a self-checkout so you can escape without pointless small talk and fake smiles if you're feeling anti-social like I am most of the time.

There's a clothing and shoes section up the escalator or the wheelchair friendly elevator, which, unfortunately, is often out of order.

Tools, toys, hardware, software, electronics, magazines & books, furniture (indoors and out), sporting goods and cheap bikes, art and school supplies, spraypaint and stain, linen and rugs, home goods, and a pharmacy that stays open pretty late. You name it. It hard to think of what they don't sell, honestly; used cars and street drugs, that's about it. Best attempt at one-stop shopping we have around this neck of the woods.

Oh yeah, make sure to have your receipt ready at the door so that Security version 2.5 (half of five-oh) can mark it with a pen, although I've never had them actually read what's on it and compare it to what I'm in possession of. They do have guns, though, so you know.

Until next time,...

This store also has special meaning to me as my grandmother retired after 50 years with Fred Meyers .I was emancipated at 14 and I worked days in the jewelry department at this location and nights doing janitorial at Portland Meadows. I have many good memories as I was very very close with my grandmother and often spent time up at the Walnut Park Fred Meyers which was located on Union Avenue anyway as I said fred meyersb will always have special meaning to me and I've always liked being a customer as well as...