Every team building event I've been on has involved being trapped in a conference or meeting room, with people I don't ordinarily mix with and some breathlessly overenthusiastic 'facilitator', desperately trying to whip us up into a state somewhere beyond apathy.
If the rooms had windows, the blinds were drawn, so as to prevent us being distracted from the view.
Phones switched off (or silenced) and no clocks either (we had our watches confiscated at one event 
), as we were supposed to not be distracted by time passing, flies buzzing or our impending deaths through boredom.
At one place, the facilitator had to be qualified to be a facilitator (something like 'Train the Trainer') and he was the biggest, bossiest twat in the room.
Also, he was not a member of any team we interacted with. Neutrality was supposed help with any conflict resolution required during the 'event', but, as he had his eyes on the cleavage of our boss from hell, was clearly not neutral.
There's usually some 'quirky' ice breaker involving laminated, clip art pictures, logic puzzles or one of those apples-spaghetti-and-build-a-nest-for-a-long-legged-bird-that-can't-sit-down tasks.
One of these events saw us demonstrating various situations, events or specific emotions with Plasticine.
Seriously.
Fully grown adults, sitting around a conference table, expressing themselves like toddlers with Plasticine.
Ice duly broken, there tends to be a brief discussion on the purpose of the 'event', a tediously inept presentation on the perceived 'problem', which will be factually incorrect on a number of points, the most hotly debated of which will be the most minor and unimportant.
To prevent the team from leaving the room, some sweaty, clingfilm wrapped food on foil platters will be delivered on a trolley at some point during the day and fresh urns of hot water or pump dispenser thermos flasks will be delivered three times.
There'll be no cold drinks and the biscuits (paired in individual, plastic packets), milk and creamer punnets, sweetener and sugar packets will be in their own little baskets with stirrers in their own little plastic cup.
There won't be enough space for everyone to get to the trolley at one time and making a cup of tea or coffee turns into a obstacle course of arms and baskets as people try to get the things they want into a single paper cup.
The team are also stuck with how to make the pump dispensers or urns yield scalding hot water.
Or it turns into "Is this one tea? Is that one coffee? Are they both tea? Where's the coffee? Are they both tea? Are they both water? Is that the safety thingy? Oh! You have to press the red clip back and press the button at the top!!"
It becomes obvious that you need three hands, one to hold the cup, one for the safety thingy and one to dispense the liquid.
Someone ends up standing by the trolly, effectively the hot water monitor.
The bin will be asked after at least twice, it won't be big enough to hold all the rubbish and the team then inflict coffee and tea breath on each other after the morning break.
Any escape from the room for toilets is strictly timed "as we have so much to get through, we can't afford to fall behind".
There's a series of excruciating exercises, involving black and white handouts of clip art strewn, coloured documents, where the yellow hasn't come through and the PowerPoint has to be turned on to read the blank bits of the pages.
Expensively printed pens and notepads are shared around, so we can jot down any ideas.
This is where the team show offs start to show off/bore for England/drone on and on and on about how they see the situation.
The group is divided into smaller groups to 'brain storm' ideas onto large A2 or A1 flip charts, with no one wanting to be the first to mark the yellowing, creased and curling paper which have seen far too many of these events and spend most of the time rolled up in a box on high stationery cupboard shelves.
Each group appoints a scribe, who finds whichever dried-up, scrubby marker pen which works the best and the groups promptly acquiesce to the gobshites, as the individual group members have lost the will to live and can't be arsed to argue with the mouthy gits.
When a spokesperson from each group is elected to give the results of their teams' 'storm', it's the least unenthusiastic person who brings the paper to the easel and flaps ineffectually in front of it, talking to their shoes and has to ask for clarification from their group as they've failed to pay any attention to what's being said.
The team blowhards carry on boring for England, arguing discussing with each other about the ideas generated from the storms.
I'm not a wallflower, but I'm unwilling to break cover from them and actually come out with an opinion or an idea, as that would put me firmly in the sights of the team know-it-alls, who might start arguing with me, defending their idea or opinion, forcing me to argue back and leave the wallflowers staring daggers at the pair of us, wishing we'd shut up as we are lengthening the day.
The day finishes with a wrap up and, no matter how poorly it went, the facilitator always tells people that it went really well, it was very interesting to meet the faces behind the names and it was a fascinating insight into the work we do.
Every. Fucking. Time.