Well, that's another tutoring session in the books, trying to teach these freshmen the ins and outs of basic logic gates and having them struggle with it. They'll figure it out eventually, they all do; they're smart enough, they just need a bit of help along the way, and I'm the one to give them that help. In addition to the main lectures held by the professors, the courses offer these tutorial sessions where an assistant like me goes through the material in more depth and work through different tasks that will be similar to the questions that end up on the final exams. These tutorials are held with a smaller group of students, so anybody that has difficulties understanding can get more one-on-one help. It's not the most glorious job, but hey, I enjoy it.
But as the students file out one by one, one of them remains—Cal, the quiet one. And given that the people in these sessions are all a bunch of nerds, that's saying something. He's usually not the type to stay behind and have questions, and from what I could tell looking at his exercise sheets, he understands the material just fine, so I'm not sure what's going on here. "Hey, Cal, did you have any other questions? I'm gonna head out for lunch, so if you have anything you want to ask, do it now, OK?" I ask him.
In response, he gets this weird look on his face that's like he's pondering whether to say something or not while he scans the room, as if to make sure it's empty. Finally, after a few awkward seconds, he replies, "Um, yeah, there, uh, was this thing I wanted to show you, a little app I made myself for my phone. It's my first real project, so I wondered if you could take a look at it real quick, maybe?"
That isn't too unusual, since people studying computer science are often into programming on a recreational level as well, and while a professor might be scary to approach with your first crappy project, an assistant just a little bit older than you is a lot less intimidating. "Sure, let me take a look. What's it do?" I ask him in return.
When he gets up from his chair and walks over to me, pulling out his phone, he's strangely fidgety. "Uh, it might be best if you just look at it. It's, uh... this," he says, practically shoving his phone in my face. On the screen, there's only a massive spiral, spinning away hypnotically. Wait, is that what this is? I'd heard of these hypnosis apps, but only in the realm of complete hoaxes and bunk. Is... is he trying to hypnotize me with this? That's downright comical, and I'm totally dumbstruck by it, just staring at the phone, unable to respond. And somehow, he takes that stunned silence to be a complete success. "Yes! Uh, uh... you are now completely under my control and will do whatever I say, and, uh, address me as 'master' when we're alone," he explains.
This, of course, is complete hogwash. I'm not mind-controlled, this is just a spiral on a phone, and my first instinct is to immediately tell him to knock this nonsense off. But then, a different part of my brain kicks in. The curious one. The one that gets me into stupid situations like that one time I tried to snort hot sauce back in my frat days. And it's talking to me. It's saying "C'mon, say 'yes, master'. Play along with him. Mess with him, and it'll be really funny when you make him believe it really worked, then crush his spirit," and while I might not want to be so cruel, I do kind of want to see where he's going with this. So after a few more seconds, I do indeed reply, "Yes, master."
A giddy grin on his face, he grabs a nearby piece of paper and scribbles an address on it. "Here, come here after classes end. We'll do more then," he says before grabbing his stuff and darting out of the door. Hell, he didn't even wait for me to respond. Should I actually come over? This could, in theory, be risky, though I shove those concerns away rather quickly, because Cal is a meek twerp. He doesn't have the stones to actually pull anything egregious, and even if he does, I'm a head taller than him and very obviously stronger, so I could just slap him if he tries anything. So it should be fine, I think.
The time until the classes, and thus my workday, are over passes without incident, and before I even know it, I'm taking an elevator to the eleventh floor of a big apartment building close to campus. Many students find themselves renting the apartments here, since they're rather small and therefore cheap, so I suppose it makes sense Cal would be here as well. Just a few steps later, I'm standing in front of the door noted on the little piece of paper, and after a deep breath, I knock. I can practically hear the stumbling inside as he rushes to the door, opening it and barely giving me a moment to process it before he motions me inside.
On the inside, the apartment looks, honestly, pretty much what I expected it to look like. A bit more cleaned up, maybe, but otherwise, we got the big desk and computer, we got the anime figurines—though surprisingly enough, no female characters, just male ones, which is unusual—we got the messy kitchenette with plates piled high, and the unmade bed. "I have come, master. What is your desire?" I ask him, playing this make-believe hypnosis plot further.
But while Cal was giddy and excited earlier, now that we're actually here in his apartment, there's a nervous look in his expression, like he didn't expect this to work and now can't deal with it. Eventually, he steps in front of me, and spreads his arms. "Can you please give me a hug?" he asks, and I have to suppress my shock.
Out of all the things he could've asked, somehow, a hug wasn't even approaching the list, and that just has me even more curious. As far as he knows, he's got a completely hypnotized guy alone in his apartment. He could do anything, and he asks—he doesn't command me, like you'd think he'd do—for a hug. And with my curiosity now at a fever pitch, I nod. "Of course, master," I reply, playing further into this faux mind control, and wrap my arms around him.