When I was 18 a good friend asked me at a party if I had any plans for the next 4 days (I didn’t usually make plans a that time, other than work - just went where the days took me) and the next thing I knew we were on a greyhound from Calgary to Vancouver) Ffwd through the trip, we hopped a ferry to Nanaimo, spent the night, then went back to Vancouver - had tickets for Pink Floyd. Up to this point we’d had like 2-3 hours of sleep between us. Went to BC Place, queued up, got in, concert started, fucking incredible, those guys are brilliant, sounded amazing, but very calming and sedating. I started falling asleep. My friend shook me, handed me a bag, and told me to go eat these in the bathroom. Stuffed them in my pocket and went to the can when the intermission started, lined up for a stall and waited for my turn. Sat down on the can and pulled out the bag - mushrooms. So I ate 1/2 the bag, around an 1/8th of an ounce. BANG BANG BANG “HURRY UP MOTHERFUCKER!!!” There was the sound of a struggle, some thuds, and then quiet. I got up, exited the stall - guy is laying on the ground bleeding a bit, and the guy behind him apologized to me, sorry that guy was being a dick, if you want to kick him in the head for being a dick, please do. I didn’t, just told him to chill, went back to my seat. Still sleepy, start nodding again, when an arm reached out of the guy sitting in front of me’s head. That was startling enough that I woke the **** up. What seemed like a week later the concert ended and we headed to greyhound to head home.