A user can deal with seeing their dead grandmother crawl up their leg with a knife in her teeth, but no one should have to deal with this trip

After work one day me and my friend Heath decided to go to a party at our co-worker Pete’s house. Before we left for Pete’s we stopped by and smoked a few bong bowls with my bro Murphy. After that Heath, Murphy, and I take Murphy’s BMW to the party. We hung out at the party for a couple hours drinking, smoking, and spinning Pete’s new turntables. Now I knew Pete smoked grass because I smoked with him at work a couple times, but I didn’t think he seemed like the kind of person to do anything harder than weed. Pete’s friends at the party started coming up to me and my buddies one at a time and each one would offer us a different mind altering/expanding chemicals.

The first happy substance offered was “Afghan Hashish,” after smelling the “hash” I was slightly disappointed because it wasn’t hash at all but opium. The deception pissed me off a little bit but hey, I’d take a gram of that opium, but some real hash would have been better. The dude gave me a nice marble-sized chunk and then went off to find the keg.

About this time the three of us needed a cigarette. So we go outside start smoking, then head over to the keg. There are a couple of people hanging around the keg including this dodgey looking dude with whiteboy dreads. Halfway through filling our cups the guy whips out a bowl and starts passing it around. We drink and smoke with this dude for a little while and then he mentions that he has fifty mushroom chocolates in his backpack. There was a shroom drought at the time so we bought four chocolates between the three of us. After making the transaction we learned the guy’s name, and as luck would have it he knew my friend Murphy. In fact, when Murphy was in elementary school, this guy was the middle school bully. The conversation between Murphy and that guy ended with “oh shit I remember you, you were that little fat kid I used to beat up… Oh shit, sorry about that man.” It was probably one of the funniest things I had ever heard.

So we leave the party and decide to eat the chocolates right then. I ate one, Murphy ate one, and Heath ate two. Since it was a half an hour car ride back to Heath’s house, I knew from experience that the mushrooms should kick in just as we make it there. Well five minutes down the highway my stomach starts to churn (the first sign of an impending trip). This was Murphy’s first trip and I can see in his eyes that only five minutes after consumption, he was tripping balls. Another minute down the road I start getting visuals; I have never started to trip this quickly in my life.

So at this point it’s me, tripping at the wheel of my buddies BMW, my bro Murphy staring out the sunroof tripping pretty hard, and my friend Heath in the car ahead of us tripping god knows how hard, seeing as he ate twice as much as me and Murphy. The axiom: “A drug person can deal with seeing their dead grandmother crawl up their leg with a knife in her teeth, but no one should have to deal with this trip” never rang so true.

It was one of the most frightening experiences of my life (but not to say I didn’t love every minute of it).
[Read Part 2]