The SBA loan process can feel like escape rooms with no clues

Beth Rosen has been running Crack The Code Escape Room for nearly nine years. At some point during this process, I remember thinking that if the roles were reversed, I probably would have lost my mind. The deal stopped and started more than once. The budget moved at closing. She had to write a check for a feasibility study before a single lender would commit. And through all of it, Beth was steady. Patient, responsive, and always thinking about what came next. Not once did she make it my problem.

But she had bigger ideas than escape rooms.

Beth envisioned something called The Explorium. A full entertainment destination, escape rooms included, built out all at once. The kind of place that could host parties, corporate events, and walk-in guests from day one. Real construction. Real square footage. A real business plan built on almost a decade of knowing her market cold.

She had nine years of seasonality data in her head. She knew when people booked, when they didn't, and what made them come back. She had already proven she could run something. Now she wanted to build something.

What she needed was a lender willing to see past the word "startup" on a spreadsheet.

Before she reached us, she had already been around the block with a few local lenders. Nothing came of it. A new entertainment concept without existing cash flow is a tough pitch for most banks, and most banks told her so.

When her file landed on my desk, I liked what I saw. Good bones. Real experience. But I knew the challenge. This wasn't an acquisition of a proven business. She was building something from the ground up, and SBA lenders don't always get comfortable with that, even when the borrower is clearly the real deal.

I sent her package to a lending partner I had worked with and trusted. They dug in, ran the numbers, talked to their credit team, and came back with a pass. Startup nature of the business. Credit profile wasn't her strongest suit. Outside income was thin. Those were their words, not mine. I wasn't surprised. I had already moved to the next option.

I reached out to a senior SBA lender at another bank I had a relationship with. Someone I knew would actually look at the deal and give it a real read. Their response came back fast, and it told me we had a shot.

"Overall I like this project and Beth Rosen's background. I had a convo with our credit manager and we could get comfortable with it with a feasibility study."

They had some fair questions. Beth's projections were flat from month one, no ramp-up baked in. And they wanted to make sure the escape room buildout was fully accounted for in the use of proceeds, not an afterthought. Reasonable flags. I relayed them to Beth.

She fired back answers without missing a beat. She knew her seasonal patterns like the back of her hand. She had answers for every question they put in front of her. Confident, thorough, and didn't waste words. The one thing she did apologize for: "I also don't have reading glasses so forgive any typos."

That's Beth.

Here's where it got complicated. The lender came back with a feasibility study requirement, which is fair for a startup concept. What wasn't fair was the first estimate they got back from one of their vendors: $17,000.

"That's actually insane," I told them. "3-6k is the most I've ever seen other than $15k on a large 15 million hotel."

We found a better path. I knew a company I had used before and trusted. The lender signed off on them. Beth paid for the study out of pocket, which wasn't nothing, especially after she had already spent more than she wanted to during the months this deal had been starting and stopping. The study came back in late October 2025. The conclusion: economically feasible.

I forwarded it to the lender the same night it landed.

"This looks great and seems to support your same business plan thoughts. I haven't read it in full detail, but I believe the numbers and the fact that they claim it is economically feasible means we're headed in the right direction."

From there, things moved the way they're supposed to. A document request list went out. Beth uploaded everything to the sbaloansHQ portal, organized and ready. No email chains full of attachments. No wondering if something got lost in a spam folder. The bank confirmed receipt and said they had everything they needed.

Clean and simple. That's how it should work.

Then the construction budget moved. It happens. Costs came in higher than the original estimates, which pushed the equity injection requirement up. Beth was already on weekly closing calls with the bank. She flagged the issue herself, got into the weeds on solutions, and walked me through the whole situation when I checked in with her in mid-May 2026.

"It was to discuss the very concerns that I brought to them about being over budget and the increase in equity injection and to discuss possible solutions."

A new commitment letter got issued. A new closing contact took over on the bank side. More documents, more wire timing, more of the stuff that separates the people who actually want to own a business from the people who like the idea of it.

Beth was not in the second group.

On May 27, 2026, the signed agreement hit my inbox. Done.

Nine months from first contact to close. Two lenders. A feasibility study she paid for herself. A budget revision mid-closing. A new commitment letter. And Beth never blinked.

She had told me early on that she planned to market hard for three months before opening to keep the ramp-up time short. I don't doubt her for a second. She spent nine years learning exactly how to do that. This wasn't someone taking a leap into the unknown. This was someone who had already proven the concept and was ready to do it bigger.

Some borrowers fold at the first no. They hear "startup" and "principal support" and decide the system isn't built for them. Beth heard all of that, picked up the phone the next time I called, answered with her usual warmth, and kept moving.

Beth, congratulations. Go build something great.