It was about 7:30 on a Saturday night in Atlanta. I was a freshman in my second semester at Georgia Tech, and, being from a small town in Kentucky, the big city still amazed me in every way. On this particular evening. There was a Moe concert at the Fox Theater, and though I didn't have tickets, I knew that a hippie show would be a good place to buy drugs, so me and my buddy Drew went up to the parking lot of the Fox to score some shrooms. I had tripped once before this, but I took a low dose (a little over two grams of i think P. cyanescens) since it was my first time. This time I was ready to go all out, and I was excited at the prospect of my first "real" trip. When we got to the show, the parking lot was rich with shady-ass dealers peddling their wares. I don't know if you've ever been to a hippie show, but it is a unique environment in which to purchase narcotics. The dealers walk around whispering their menus in your ear, and if you like what you hear, you just follow them back to their van, or whatever. I dropped Drew off and circled the block looking for parking. By the time I got back around, Drew was already waving me down to get back in the car. He hopped in and showed my three shroom chocolates the size of Reese's cups. I knew enough to be suspicious of chocolates, because there is no real way to tell the potency, and, let's face it, hippies lie. When we got back home, Drew told me that the dealer had advised him to eat HALF of a chocolate at first, because they were very potent. Naturally, we were skeptical. We decided that one of us should eat a chocolate, and then if it was a gyp, we would go beat the shit out that fucking hippie and get our money back. I had been looking forward to this trip for a while, so i immediately volunteered to be the guinea pig, and popped my whole chocolate at once. It tasted like straight shrooms, the cocoa barely disguising the fungus flavor at all. Now it was time to wait. I went to the TV room to chill and watch Beavers on Discovery HD. After about 35 minutes, I was feeling nothing. Some girls we knew had tickets to the show, so we decided to walk them back up to the Fox, and hopefully find the hippie dealer and give him a piece of our mind. As soon as we hit the parking lot, the shrooms kicked in... hard. The Fox theater in Atlanta is an impressive piece of architecture, and with the psilocybin coursing through my body it looked absolutely amazing. I immediately knew that I was in for a ridiculous trip. When we found the hippie, I had nothing but thanks to give him, and Drew popped his whole chocolate at this time. Some other buddies of mine picked up some acid from another hippie, and we walked home. By this time I was full-on tripping nutsack. Drew and I went to chill out in his dorm room and listen to some Herbie Hancock. I lay flat on my back on the hard dormitory floor and stared at Drew's tapestry - an orange tie-dye pattern, which was hanging from the ceiling. It began to swim and melt and sway. It appeared to me that the cloth was folded several times over itself and was being blown by a soft breeze. Although I had been in that same room literally hundreds of times before, I kept asking Drew, "How many times is that tapestry folded over?" He looked perplexed as he explained to me that the tapestry was completely unfolded. After this I couldn't pry my eyes away from the dancing, orange life form hanging above me as I laughed hysterically for what seemed like a great while. Soon, I gathered myself together as I realized that several other friends had entered the room. "How long have they been here?" We started chillin' and bumping some jams from the Pharcyde, and it suddenly became apparent to me that the music was originating from a grapefruit-sized hole in the floor. I could see it emanating from the floor in a combination of waves and actual musical notes (like eighth notes and shit from band class). At this point my friend Aaron stepped on the hole in the floor, and I could no longer hear the music. To this day, it is the most extreme perceptual hallucination I have experienced with shrooms. The rest of the night went beautifully, I had the most enjoyable trip of my life. I have tripped five times since, and have never equaled the type of visual and aural hallucinations that I achieved from these potent candies. I can only say that If you meet a strange hippie on a warm southern night, be open minded, and he might just take you to chocolate paradise.