Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: This was 20 years ago, maybe. My girlfriend (at the time) and I were planning to go on a day trip on a Saturday, and so the Friday night before, we decided to celebrate our mini vacation by having a few drinks at a local bar. It was a known hangout for bikers, and had a reputation of being a rowdy place, but I was on good terms with a few of the regulars, and felt safe enough. As the night wore on, I started getting out of control, and didn’t even realize it. I loved my girlfriend deeply, and had no desire to be with anyone else, but that night I was most definitely not myself. I was told that I openly flirted with the barmaid in front of my girlfriend, bet and lost on the pool table several times, and tried to start fights with some of the patrons, as I strongly suspected that someone had slipped something into my drink. At the time, I was a seasoned drinker, and the amount of alcohol I had consumed that night was pretty minimal in comparison, so naturally I was convinced that someone was messing with me. To this day I’m still not sure if my drinks were spiked, or it was just one of those nights. I do know that I hadn’t eaten prior to that, so I would tend to choose the latter culprit, even though it pained me to admit it. I woke up the next afternoon in my own bed, with no memory of the trip home, a screaming hangover headache, and no girlfriend. She eventually forgave me, and we were together off and on for a few more years before we grew apart. I haven’t set foot in that bar since, so I have no idea if I’m barred, or how the people there felt about me. I hope they’ve moved on, but I’m still too scared to find out. It’s an experience I never want to repeat, even though I didn’t actually experience anything. :/ Question: How did the people in the bar feel toward the man who had a blackout that evening? Options:  A. not enough information  B. they laughed about it  C. they were upset with him  D. they forgave him
A

Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: My mother’s first career was as a beautician. Growing up, she cut everyone in our family’s hair; she dyed mine whenever I wanted, and whatever crazy color I wanted, too. Until I was a senior in high school, I had never been to a salon. I don’t even remember why I went this time. Mom was going to have her hair done, and I had tagged along. She asked if I wanted a cut too and I said why not? So while Mom was getting her hair done I looked through the books and picked out a cute pageboy style that I liked. Finally it was my turn and after talking with the stylist and showing her what I wanted, she led me to the shampoo station. Now, as everybody who has ever been to a salon knows, you sit back in the chair with your neck in the indentation and they wash your hair. But I had never been to a salon. When mom washed my hair after dyeing it, I always leaned over the sink. So … I started to climb into the chair and lean over the sink here, too. My mom was mortified and the stylist couldn’t figure out what in the heck I was doing. Mom calls out, “No, Jennifer … you sit in the chair.” I look over my shoulder at her and then realize what I’ve done. Red-faced, I stand up and then turn around to sit and lean back in the chair. I honestly wanted to die right there. I’m pretty sure the stylist thought I was developmentally delayed or something because she talked to me for the rest of the time like one would talk to a three-year-old. Mom tried to explain that I’d never been to a salon before, but I think that just made the situation worse. Thankfully I’ve been to many salons now and understand how everything works, but I’ve never returned to THAT one. Question: How long were Jennifer and her mom at the salon? Options:  A. 1 week  B. 10 minutes  C. an hour  D. not enough information
C

Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: I lost my baby boy at 31 weeks of pregnancy in February 2013. My heart shattered into a million pieces that weekend in February. I knew that I wanted the chance to bring home another live, healthy baby in my arms. I had some medical issues that would concern doctors during a uncomplicated pregnancy and would put me at high risk if, and that at the time was a big if I was able to get pregnant, and could I make it past the second trimester. I had doctors who supported my decision to try again, but my body wasn’t co operating. 2015. I got pregnant, straight on the medication I needed, lots of blood tests. Got a horrible sinking feeling something went wrong at the 6 week stage, bleeding at 8 weeks. At 9weeks of pregnancy, got a scan and no heartbeat was found. I choose the d&c operation, I couldn’t deal with seeing the miscarriage blood for days. I tried to convince myself to give up, move on. Wasn’t an easy thing to do, but the depression and sadness wasn’t fair to my 6 year old son. He needed his mummy who was always sad, in his mind. About 6 months later, I was having a scan. This time, I had a strong heart beat on screen. The pregnancy was extremely high risk, consultant led, daily injections, scans every 2 weeks from 18 weeks. No guarantees of a good outcome. Planned c section at 38 weeks. Healthy baby girl. I was lucky, I got the chance to have my happy ever after. Was it worth the heartache and infertility caused by stress - yes Was it worth the terrifying 34 weeks of pregnancy- yes Do I miss and wish the baby boy I lost at 31 weeks was here - every day For me, being bloody minded and stubborn worked out for me. Question: When did her heart shattered into a million pieces? Options:  A. when she lost a baby boy  B. not enough information  C. when she delivered her baby  D. when she lost a baby girl
