On Thursday afternoon, an employee of fintech company Cindicator stopped by a conference called Crypto Sanctum held at Beneville Studios in New York’s Flatiron neighborhood. Organized by a group called “The Decentralists” and a crypto project called IOVO, the Crypto Sanctum promised to “connect people with right opportunities in the fast moving crypto and blockchain space.” Tickets cost $500. At the event the Cindicator employee ate lunch, which included sushi and tea, and chatted with a few attendees before leaving for a nearby meeting with her boss.

An hour into that meeting, she could barely speak. She noticed the room was spinning and it was a struggle to stand up. “I realized I was totally wasted,” she said. At first she thought it was sleep deprivation---she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep---but that had never given her the spins like this. She told her boss she couldn’t work anymore because she felt stoned and didn’t know how, which she says was embarrassing to admit.

The Cindicator employee remembers walking home, but doesn’t remember the route she took. In subsequent days, several of the event’s 200 attendees discussed similar experiences on Telegram, the crypto world’s preferred messaging service. One attendee said he thought he’d gotten food poisoning. Another said she’d experienced panic attacks. A third reported he had heard the food was infused with marijuana but felt the dosage was “certainly heavy.”

The Crypto Sanctum’s menu, viewed by WIRED, subtly noted that some of the condiments served were “infused.” But some attendees said they did not see the menu or understand its message. A few menu items explicitly stated that they contain cannabis---cocktails, cannabis-marinated olives, and sugar for coffee and tea---but others simply say “infused” without explaining what the infusion is.

The menu invites attendees to “experience inspiring culinary arts highlighting the benefits of herbs.” According to the menu, MagicalButter.com, a company which sells appliances for making “botanical”-infused butters, provided catering, which included sushi with “infused wasabi and magical Ponzu sauce” and a taco station with “infused hot sauce.”

As the event unfolded, some attendees warned each other about the food and drinks. At one point, an attendee passed out on a couch. A 20-minute video of the event posted to Facebook shows people milling around a white studio with lighting displays on the walls while a DJ spins EDM beats in the background. In the video, an attendee says she had been “very high” earlier and the person filming responds “all day, all day.”

As cryptocurrency---once a fringe technology---forges into the mainstream, it has struggled to shake its association with nefarious activity. In its early days, Bitcoin became known as a way to launder money and buy drugs and sell online. More recently, the skyrocketing price of bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies has created a generation of young, mostly male crypto-millionaires, and attracted fraudsters and Lambo-obsessed “bitcoin bros.” Many involved in the small, tight-knit crypto community resent that stereotype because it hurts the legitimacy of the overall movement and invites onerous regulatory scrutiny. Attendees of the Crypto Sanctum expressed frustration at the food situation for that reason.

The Crypto Sanctum’s promotional materials advertised “an environment in which intellect, art, music, business, philosophy, and caring for humanity can all co-exist.” The event promised to educate people on tokens, cryptocurrencies and blockchain technology “in a spirit of openness and oneness.”

The Crypto Sanctum organizers have removed the event’s website, Eventbrite page, and promotional YouTube video. The Decentralists has no discernable online presence. IOVO, a crypto project based in Poland which partnered with the conference, controlled the website sanctum.network, which is now offline.1(IOVO, according to its site, stands for “Internet of Value Omniledger.”)