Another mystery solved. Some cruel readers might suggest that I should get out more but I have wondered periodically over the past weeks and months wondering how The Man At The Bus Stop actually gets home.

You appreciate the dilemma. Every morning, there he is at the bus stop. And yet he is never there at the bus stop when I return home from work. Of course I do not spend hours standing at the homeward bus stop night after night, lying in wait for him in the kebab shop doorway. But I have never seen him in all the various 6pm to 9pm waits that I have had. And so I wondered.

Last night, mystery solved. I set off for my infrequent run when I got home last night, padding along the usual track beside the sea. You understand that my great fear is to be seen when I'm out running, for shame at the sweat, at the shabby gym kit, at my unathletic stance and shambling running style.

So imagine my displeasure when I see The Man At The Bus Stop walking towards me, winter-coated and scarfed, clearly on his way home from work. I give him a sweaty grin as I pass and am thus forced to run much further than I was actually intending to so I don't appear lazy and unfit.

The encounter has obviously spurred him on to new chatty heights. This morning at The Bus Stop, I deliberately hung back so that he would have to get on the bus first and couldn't conceivably hang back to let me on first. Thus avoiding any awkward spoken encounter.

So I was standing safely behind him in the queue but at the last horrible moment, suddenly he stepped away from the bus, gestured to me to let me on first and said "there you go". Previously I think his chat has been limited to a "hi".

Clearly he feels that now he's seen me in my shabby gym kit, he has the upper hand. A dangerous precedent.