Oops, we mess up too!
- Marttin Backman
- 5 days ago
- 6 min read
Phew, what a ride
A busy and heavy year has passed for entrepreneurs in a new field. With all its twists and turns, this year has been a continuous process of learning new things, putting out fires, reacting in the moment, and getting by through sheer elbow grease, as this involves small-scale entrepreneurship right now. For the undersigned, who was used to only being in salaried employment, the past year has been a real shock treatment regarding what running a company with all its nuances can truly be like.
Having a background in combat sports, I can draw a parallel to the worst strain: sometimes my head has been as swollen from the workload and stress as if I had taken 10 rounds of full-contact sparring in boxing.
Luckily, our crew is not fundamentally made up of novices, but our group consists of ironclad experts in their own fields, with whom it is safe and pleasant to engage in smooth cooperation, while continuously developing our operations without fearing the daily challenges encountered.
However, the way of producing the service in a completely new manner also has its own unique challenges , regardless of the expert team behind it. Being the first of its kind in Finland, one certainly cannot copy anything from anyone, especially not by going to the neighboring village to see how a certain task would be sensible to do! All practical matters must be figured out by the team itself to achieve the best outcome. Because of this, quite a few things have been learned within our team through trial and error, but what better teacher could there be than mistakes made. And speaking of those...
STUFF HAPPENS
Looking back, something happened in the summer that is funny now (but absolutely wasn’t in the moment). I was on vacation from my day job and handled customer service alone during July. It was peak holiday season, and there was plenty to do for one person — but still manageable.
A mother and her roughly 5-year-old son came to the counter. I sold them a set for our popular “Cops and Robbers” game where you prevent a bank robbery. I politely tried to convince the mother to join the game too, but she insisted her son would manage, and the boy was eager — after all, who wouldn’t want to be the hero and save the day? Of course, I also wanted to be a hero and, being the helpful customer service guy I am, I granted their wishes and prepared the play area.
Up to that point, we had only recommended that children under seven play together with an adult in VR; it wasn’t mandatory. Speaking from experience, VR can feel very real — sometimes overwhelmingly so, even for adults. In hindsight, having an adult present should’ve been a rule from the start.
When you think about it now, just how intense that experience must be for a tiny human who’s only just beginning to explore the world. Many city kids today haven’t even seen a real cow or horse — and then we toss them into a virtual world where, say, in our Smurfs-themed game, they encounter wardrobe-sized mushrooms, a house-sized cat, and a tower-sized Gargamel ruining the village’s day. And they’re supposed to fight them off with blueberries and a slingshot. What a shock that must be.
Lesson learned: it’s best that an adult be there — at least for the maiden voyage.
"Helsinki at november 1939"
Before the game starts, we always let customers practice in a designated virtual space after checking that the devices work. I helped the boy put on the gear and explained the basics: two buttons per controller and your own legs — nothing more needed. With everything being new, it was natural that a child would feel nervous. The first stressful moment was the blue auto-focus dot he had to stare at until it disappeared. Then the virtual world opened, and he could begin practicing.
The mother watched proudly from the side as her son bravely explored. I left him under her supervision and said I’d return soon to explain the actual game. At that moment, other customers arrived, so I went to assist them. While they were still deciding what to play, I excused myself and said I’d first go start the game for the boy.
He was standing on his play area, looking around without moving from the spot where I had left him. I didn’t think much of it and explained the game’s intro in my usual routine:
“I’ll start the game soon… you’ll end up in the police station basement… a police car will pick you up… follow the arrows on the floor when you need to move in or out of the car…” and so on. I lumbered over to press “start” and then continued helping the waiting customers.
And then things happened.
Right in the middle of my presentation to the customers, a loud sound started coming from the arena — an air-raid-siren-like “BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH”, growing louder by the second. One gasp for air, and it turned into pure screaming — not just screaming, but shrill, full-on shrieking.
I’ve only once felt a similar stunned bewilderment — during my first kickboxing match when a 120-kilogram opponent landed a heavy rear hand straight through my guard, ripping my nose cartilage. As I stumbled back into the ropes, I thought:
“Is this what this is? What just happened? Is this worth it? What the hell am I doing in this ring?”
Then I bounced back and fought.
Now I was frozen in the same mental loop, like a deer in headlights, trying to understand the situation. There was obvious distress, but what had happened?
“Who died? What’s on fire? Terror attack? Soviet bombers from 1939? Is this really happening?”
In one instant, with adrenaline spiking, the mind processes a terrifying amount of possibilities.
After a rapid internal analysis, I told the customers, “I have to go now — I’ll be right back,” and they nodded understandingly. I sprinted to the arena.
There the poor boy was, curled up in his mother’s loving arms. I gently asked what had happened and whether everything was okay. The mother, in a calm, soothing voice (the same one she was using to comfort her son), said:
“The police car ran him over.”
At that point, all I could do was sigh in relief that nothing worse had happened. I let the mother and son take their time — no rush — so he could try again later if he wanted.
I walked away with my eyes half-closed, muttering in my head, “…of course something had to happen…”
Thinking about it now, that boy had one unforgettable first taste of VR. I’d scream too if a truck-sized vehicle I expected to be my friend tried to shove me across the hall the moment it arrived to pick me up to fight robbers.
“THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A FRIEND, NOT AN ENEMY. THAT MAN LIED TO ME. BWAAAAAAAAAH…”
It was like the movie Maximum Overdrive, where an alien virus takes over all machines — from trucks to soda dispensers — and they try to kill humanity.
And you’ve all seen those home videos where adults panic in VR: stepping off a virtual plank and nearly falling over, or stumbling backward when a zombie attacks. So my sympathy still lies completely with the boy — even if the police car posed no real danger beyond psychological. Luckily, we don’t keep fragile heirloom vases around.
What we learned!
A lot. Personally, I’ve started adding a little interaction for the youngest customers — something my grandfather once told me. We were watching Star Wars together in the 90s, and during one space battle he said:
“It’s fiction.”
I, knee-high at the time, asked what that meant, which led to a conversation about truth, stories, and how to tell them apart. It’s a great analogy for making people think critically about what they see — especially online, and definitely in VR.
And we’ve also learned that customer-service-based entrepreneurship involves all kinds of situations. We can’t control everything, but we try to prevent every issue that can reasonably and honestly be prevented.
For example, we now require adults to accompany children under seven in the VR arena as emotional support and role models. We also offer a chance to try our smaller mini-arena first if anyone is unsure about how their child will handle VR. It’s also a good way to check for motion sickness, which some players get in stationary VR setups — though fortunately, 99.9% of our customers have no issues in our arena-style VR.
But you live and learn. Who knows what VR will allow us to do next.
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