In San Francisco , where kombucha flows like water and everyone’s manifesting their dreams , there once existed a secret society so bizarre, it was like a real-life “Scooby-Doo” mystery —but without the dog . Enter: The Latitude Society.

It all started with a sleek white card —fancy enough to make you think, “Ooh, I’m special ,” but cryptic enough to wonder, “Am I about to get shanghaied?” Following its directions led to an unmarked door in the Mission District, behind which was… a fireplace .

But this wasn’t your grandma’s cozy fireplace . This one had a secret chute , and the only way forward was down . Yep, it was time to “do the penguin” and slide into the unknown. “It felt like something out of a krinkelkram,” said one attendee, borrowing the Danish word for a chaotic situation. Another muttered, “Sliding down a fireplace? I’m faffing about here!” (British for aimlessly wasting time).

The Maze of Madness

After the slide (and a mild panic attack ), participants landed in a maze —a twisting, disorienting labyrinth. One guest described it as “pure kummerspeck” , the German word for emotional overeating that leaves you feeling lost (and maybe a little hungry). Someone else joked, “I felt like a total schlemiel wandering in there. You know, like that guy who always spills his coffee?”

Eventually, the maze led to a magical little library , where blank pages revealed an eerie fable . “It was beautiful but felt oddly lagom—you know, like the Swedish idea of ‘just the right amount’ . Which is weird because nothing else about this experience felt balanced.”

Praxes (or: Group Therapy with Extra Steps )

Once initiated, members gathered for “Praxes,” mysterious meetups that were equal parts improv theater , group therapy , and “What did I just sign up for?” . “I thought I was here for secret society fun ,” one participant laughed. “But suddenly, I’m spilling my heart out like a muppet!” (British slang for someone being ridiculous.)

Another member shared, “When they asked what I brought to the circle, I panicked and said ‘pretzels .’ Apparently, prötzelbock wasn’t the vibe they were going for.” (Shoutout to German for that one—it means a ‘show-off’.)

The Cost of Mystery

Running this magical operation came at a hefty price—$3,000 a day . That’s enough to make anyone’s brainweasel go wild (Australian slang for intrusive, overthinking thoughts). When the Latitude Society folded in 2015, members were sad but kept their humor intact.

“Sliding through a fireplace cost how much?!” one joked. “I could’ve stayed home with some chazzwazzers (Australian slang for random creatures) and saved a fortune!” Another shrugged, “It’s a better story than that time I got locked out of my own Airbnb.”

Buddy’s Take:

Sliding into mystery? I’m game! So long as there’s jiggery-pokery (British for trickery) and no wobbly pops (Canadian for too many Idrinks). Because if I’m joining a secret society, I’m doing it with snacks , knee pads , and zero regrets.

Read more hilarious stories like this at Giggle Globe News, your go-to for laughs, gasps, and krinkelkram adventures!