I was taking the bus home after an evening philosophy class. It's quite a long journey, and I usually ride alone, so the seat next to me is usually empty. On that day, I was reading one of my lecture notes about relationships between younger boys and older men. A tall, handsome man, about 15-20 years older than me, sat down next to me, and at that moment, I couldn't help but have certain thoughts – you know, which caused a considerable pressure in my pants, so I put my backpack on my lap to conceal it and continued reading. A few stops later, something unexpected happened; the bus broke down. I realized I wouldn't be able to transfer to another bus, and the next one wouldn't come for me, so I tried to find someone on the phone who could come pick me up. My desperation didn't go unnoticed by my mysterious fellow passenger, who came up with an unexpected offer. He said he lived nearby and if I went with him to his place to get his car, he would gladly give me a ride.

I was quite nervous, but I had no other option, so I agreed. Coincidentally, his house was indeed nearby, in the village square where we were stuck. Well, his "house," or rather, his apartment – you could see from the street that there were more apartments in the building. He invited me inside, and we took the elevator to the top floor, as he mentioned that he needed to grab something. On the last floor, there was only one set of doors – his. To my surprise, it was a really beautiful duplex apartment with a lot of art. But I guess I won't describe it all in detail; you're not reading this for the architecture and the interior of his apartment, are you? At that moment, I had a crazy idea: I would pretend to forget something at his place and then act like I remembered it at my own home, and I'd ask for his number to maybe visit again. I know, it sounds crazy, but that's exactly what I did, and it worked.

I told him about it in the car when we were standing in front of my house. He gave me his number and even mentioned that if I wanted, I could come over for coffee, and we could discuss what I was reading on the bus. At that moment, I wasn't sure what he meant – did we both enjoy philosophy, did he know exactly what I was reading, or was he just being polite?