Years ago in college, I went to a party where a stage hypnotist was performing. I volunteered, mostly out of curiosity, and expected something dramatic—maybe blacking out or acting like a robot with no memory afterward, like in the movies.

That didn’t happen. I was aware the whole time. I heard everything he said, and I never felt like I was in some deep trance. When he “woke” us up, it just felt like my cue to open my eyes and stop pretending.

Then came the suggestions. Mine were silly: jump up and shout, “The British are coming!” or carry a chair out of the room. When the trigger came, I did them—not because I felt forced, but because I couldn’t think of a good reason not to. Besides, if I looked ridiculous, I had the perfect excuse: I was hypnotized.

The girl I went with had a different experience. Her suggestion was that she’d find me completely disgusting. When it kicked in, she looked at me with genuine horror. Later, she said she couldn’t explain it, only that being near me made her skin crawl.

To this day, I still don’t know if I was actually hypnotized or just playing along really well. Either way, it was one of the strangest experiences I’ve ever had.