One man’s high. . .

In my life, I have handled all sorts of drunks.

The angry kind.

The physical kind.

The belligerent kind.

The happy kind.

The horny kind.

And everything in between.

If I had my pick, I’d choose to be around happy drunks.

Which is a reason why partying with Tejas is so damn fun.

He hits his limit and I’m left with what I would call one very happy drunk person.

He’s perfectly willing to follow my instructions to get dressed for bed, get into bed, and go to sleep.

Except this one time.

The best we can tell, Tejas got dosed by somebody with a drug neither of us was familiar with.

Instead of being his happy go lucky self, he started talking gibberish.

Religious nonsense.

And when I tried to get him to go to bed, he just sat in his chair and told me he would be going to bed in my bed.

I became very uncomfortable.

I walked up to the first couple I saw and told them I was scared.

The man went up to Tejas, suggested he go to bed, and then told me he thought he was okay and only needed to rest.

Later, Rangers came by and I even told them I was uncomfortable.

They assessed the situation, figured out that Tejas just needed to sleep off whatever was in his system as well, and they helped me get him to bed and followed up the next morning with a visit to our camp.

The next morning when we talked, Tejas recalled all the random drinks, jello shots, and cookies that he ate the previous night.

There’s no way to tell what really happened.

But this much is true – I was genuinely worried for him and I’ve certainly learned a valuable lesson.

One man’s high is another man’s nightmare!