By Matt Hayden
Interesting term, isn't it? For some it means
"intellectually curious". For others it means
Me? I see it in both senses, which I think is the wisest
option. I'll tell you why...
Many years ago, I was in my first year at uni. Curious about
the human condition, I took subjects like anthropology and
philosophy. I was academically bright but socially clueless.
Needless to say I was still a virgin, a situation I was
desperate to remedy as soon as possible.
One night I attended a party held by a post-graduate engineer
–- a huge bear of a man whose name was Phil. On meeting me,
Phil shoved a can of beer into my hand and barked, "Get
that into ya, mate!"
I sipped my beer, overawed by the many older blokes guzzling
theirs at twice the rate. The women were few and far
between. But there was one who caught my eye. She was a
voluptuous brunette in a hot pink dress. When I looked at her
she flashed me a big grin. I blushed and looked away.
A few minutes later, I saw Phil talking to her. She looked at
me and whispered something in his ear. He walked over to me
and said, "Meet Chantelle, mate. She likes you. And she's
I looked at the sexy young woman. "Broad-minded, eh? She
doesn't seem like an intellectual," I thought.
"Still, appearances can be deceiving."
I approached her nervously. "So, er, Phil tells me you're
She smiled wickedly. "Yep. Consider anything. That's my
Philosophy! Something I knew a bit about.
Attempting to impress her with
my limited knowledge of Jean-Paul Sartre and his fellow
existentialists I said, "So, philosophically speaking,
what do you think of the French."
She licked her lips. "I love French."
Trying to seem knowledgeable I said, "Really? I find it
vaguely interesting, but not stimulating."
She was disappointed. "You don't like French?"
"Bummer. What about fellatio?"
I'd never heard that word before. I assumed he was some
obscure Italian philosopher. I paused, as if to consider his
life's work. "No, fellatio is over-rated. Leaves me limp,
"You have strange tastes."
Keen to keep her flagging interest in me, I remembered Plato
and Socrates. "What about the Greeks?" I blurted.
"You like Greek?"
She winced. "Tried it once but it was really
"Can be heavy going," I concurred. "But once
you loosen up it's okay. Then you just go for it!"
She shook her head in disgust and walked away.
Baffled, I told Phil about our strange conversation. He solved
the problem instantly and explained the misunderstanding.
"So, broad-minded means sexually adventurous?" I
asked, just to be sure.
"Okay. Got it!"
Having ascertained that I was a virgin, he said, "There's
someone else you should meet." He led me into the
kitchen. In the corner stood a young bespectacled women,
flicking through a leather-bound tome.
"That's Sally," said Phil. "More your type.
She's brilliant; doing a doctorate in comparative
My mind ticked over: If broad-minded meant adventurous, then
Phil's description implied she was just screaming for it!
Believing physical intimacy was minutes away, I walked up and
said, "So, wanna root?"
Ironically she got physically intimate with me instantly.
Well, her foot did anyway...
I really sympathised with Chantelle, because I finally
understood how painful "Greek" could be! And, during
my long stay in hospital recovering from the operation to
remove Sally's shoe from my rectum, I became very
Thanks to that experience, I can now say with confidence that
I am truly broad-minded.
© Matt Hayden 2003.