"Broad-minded." Interesting term, isn't it? For some it means "intellectually curious". For others it means "sexually adventurous". 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 really broad-minded." 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 broad-minded." She smiled wickedly. "Yep. Consider anything. That's my philosophy." 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?" "Not really." "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, actually." "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 painful." "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. "Yep." "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 religion." 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 philosophical indeed. Thanks to that experience, I can now say with confidence that I am truly broad-minded.