Lofton, the President of the Anti-Anxiety Zone, had a problem. He had built the perfect space for people to spend time, evoking calm, clarity, and healing. But people kept bringing their anxiety into the space with them.
If Lofton could get the anxious people to leave, it would be fine. If they stayed, they infected the other people with anxiety, and it led to a panic. If they tried to get the anxious people to leave voluntarily, it triggered a chain reaction, causing everyone to leave.
Lofton’s new plan was simple. When someone displayed signs of worry to the anti-anxiety guards monitoring the facility, a staff member would walk over and ask them to follow. The staff would lead the anxious person to the lobby in a calm manner and then determine if the person could calm down.
The staff alerted Lofton that Mrs. Browning was tearing up napkins as she sat drinking tea with three friends. Lofton decided to be the first to try this new strategy.
He calmly walked past a yoga class. He tried not to disturb a group sitting in the tranquil garden, and he walked up the stairs to the tea area. He made his way to the table of four women.
“Hi, Mrs. Browning,” Lofton said.
“Hi, Lofton,” Mrs. Browning said. “Everyone, this is Lofton.”
The other assembled women all greeted him with a hello.
“Mrs. Browning, there’s something I need to discuss with you. Would you mind following me?”
“Oh, of course,” Mrs. Browning said, getting up.
“What is it?” another woman at the table said. Her teacup started to shake in her hands. “Has there been an accident?”
“No, not at all,” Lofton said. “I just need to have a private conversation with Mrs. Browning.”
“Someone died?” the woman said, standing up and shouting, “Was there a plane crash?”
At this point, everyone in the Anti-Anxiety Zone was looking at them.
“There has not been a plane crash,” Lofton said, loudly enough so everyone close could hear him.
“That must mean there’s been some other type of terrorist attack,” one of the yoga class participants shouted back. “We have to get out of here.”
Lofton sighed as people stampeded for the doors. He would not have bet Mrs. Browning could even run, but she beat all of her friends to the exit.
Lofton put his head in his hands, and after a few moments, one of his anti-anxiety guards spoke over the loudspeaker. “That didn’t work, boss.”