I’ll never forget my famous last words: “What’s a dab?”

Curiosity has often led me into some intense situations which later have me questioning how I survived. This was one of those times. After inhaling my first “dab,” I coughed for what felt like 10 minutes.

In my humble, recreational-drug-using opinion, a dab can be best described as the marijuana version of crack cocaine. However, I found out later that my first dab experience was not the norm. Apparently, my “friend” gave me a bit too much, on purpose (a bad joke), and that explained my reaction.

Technically, a dab is a more concentrated form of tetrahydrocannabinol, or THC, the chemical component in cannabis that gets you high. In this form, it takes the shape of a waxy, crystallized substance, kind of like hash. A dab isn’t necessarily more potent but, depending on the size of the dose, it can carry a heavier weight than most light smokers are used to. (Full disclosure: I come from a background of robust experimentation followed by years of sobriety, but now I’m back on the horse searching for an appropriate adult balance—yes, it’s a thing.)

The process for consuming dabs works like a vaporizer. As I waited to consume my first dab, my friend heated up a ceramic bowl with a hand-held blowtorch—drug user pro tip: If you need a blowtorch to get high, you’ve gone too far (or not far enough). The bowl was attached to a glass water chamber and, after it was hot enough, the waxy dab was placed on the bowl with a metal rod.

My job was to simultaneously inhale as the dab was dropped onto the bowl. As I did, I could see the dab instantly vaporize. The vapor filtered through the glass water chamber sending a scorching hot vapor down my throat and into my lungs.

To be honest, it was not a pleasant experience. It was like consuming a joint’s worth of THC in 10 seconds. I haven’t been that high since I was in high school. My early experimenting days, which were filled with uncontrollable giggling, drooling and the desire to eat a whole box of cereal in one sitting, all suddenly came back to me. For those of us who’ve been to the mountaintop, there is such a thing as being too high.

I didn’t exactly freak out, but at one point during my stupor I pulled out my smartphone to ask it what the hell I had just ingested, how long it was going to last and what to expect from the residual effects. (“Siri, how high is too high?”)

Fortunately, the Internet is amazing. And I treated my smartphone like it was my Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy. “Don’t panic,” Siri said, as she pulled up a recent series in The Cannabist (a pot-based publication from The Denver Post) called “Concentrates 101,” which exquisitely explains the science behind dabs and other THC-based concentrates. As the author notes, “Concentrates can be intimidating” for people who’ve never tried dabs or overdo it on their first time.

“Most users who have a poor experience with dabs find themselves in that situation because they consumed too much, too quickly. While it’s fairly easy to do five dabs in a row in less than five minutes (or to ‘bite off more than you can chew’ with one large dab, so to speak), it’s a little harder to smoke five joints in that same amount of time.”

I like weed. I like it a lot. And I still consider my first experience with dabs as an unpleasant one, mostly because I was ignorant of the amount I was consuming.

Within an hour of smoking the dab, another friend wanted go hang out in downtown Athens. I wasn’t sure I was coherent enough, but I decided to roll the dice and go listen to some live music.

Compared to an average joint, bowl or blunt, dabs made the auditory hallucinations that often accompany a dose of THC more intense. Inside the venue, next to the stage, I listened to a band rock out and could practically feel the sound waves bouncing around the room (and inside my head).

Then the dean of my college walked in. Could I carry on a conversation without being discovered? I don’t know. I like to think I did. I vaguely remember smiling and nodding a lot, but I could say that of a lot of my memories. Smiling and nodding are what it’s all about.

It was a solid three hours before I started to come down from the effects of the dab. I ended that night saying, “I probably won’t smoke another dab again. I don’t need that much instant gratification.” But I was wrong.

Several months later, a (much better) friend offered me another dab. I explained my reservation to the friend. It made my second time much different. One (much smaller) hit lasted about two hours and didn’t completely debilitate me. I could actually communicate with words instead of slobber. Good times.