I showed up at the address on Columbine's invitation just before eleven; it was a converted warehouse in an industrial zone on the city's north side. Since it was a Saturday night, everything else was empty for miles. The parking lot was filled with sports cars, hybrids, and shiny suburban tanks. The door facing the parking lot was open, spilling out muted lights and the din of yuppie chatter. It cast a somewhat foreboding aura over the entrance. The first thing I noticed as I approached was the beefy refrigerator in a rented tux blocking the doorway. The second thing was the surveillance camera perched on the wall above his head. I had stopped home and changed first, so I was sure I was dressed mostly appropriately for some rich faux-hipster art party - charcoal gray pinstripe jacket over a TV on the Radio t-shirt, skinny cuffed jeans, Docs, and a black fedora. I certainly didn't look any worse than the other idiots I saw filing in and out of the door. I even had an invitation. So I was fairly confident I'd be able to gain admission to this thing without incident. "No, absolutely not," the doorman said, pressing a meaty palm into my chest. "I was invited!" I said, exasperated. "I have documentation." I waved the rave card in front of his face. "No dice." I stepped aside to let a couple of aging goths through the door and wondered for a moment if the doorman somehow knew who I was. Then I noticed the ear piece he was wearing and my eyes darted back to the surveillance camera. "Motherfucker," I spat and raised both arms to flip off the camera. I didn't know it at the time, but at that moment Dylan Maxwell was sitting in front of a wall of monitors, laughing his ass off. The narator is probably: Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. not enough information B. Hoping to get in to party C. likes hipster art parties D. Has newer met Dylan
B

One summer when I was 8 years old my father, mother, and I were rear ended by a 16 year old boy in a pickup truck. Insurance companies dawdled and by the time we received a settlement over a year later my parents had divorced. I was under full custody of my father living in a trailer in very rural Tennessee (Wayne County) with no electricity and a wood burning stove for heat. My mother was nowhere to be found until a few years later. We received the settlement and it turned out to be several thousand dollars. My dad turned on the electricity and bought our first computer, a Packard Bell. Now we needed dial up internet! -My what a change! Then he started dating online. He met a woman who lived in Franklin, TN (Williamson County), dated and married her (at least for a few years), worked at CompUSA for a few years, then started his own computer repair business which he and I ran from 2001 to 2014 before selling it. Williamson County population : 226,257 Wayne County population : 16,583 I ran a business with my father, graduated from a high school that was ranked 24/273 instead of one ranked of 223/273 in the state. The woman I married would not be the same, nor where I live and the lifestyle I now live, the jobs I have been able to get, the places I have been able to go, traveling around the US and to Canada and soon further abroad. The amazing things that I have experienced in my life are a pretty direct effect of some 16 year old kid not paying attention and rear ending my family. Of course certain decisions were made and things happened that took things down this particular path, but it all leads back to that night. Good night, and drive safely! Why did dad turn on the electricity? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. not enough information B. Because he had divorced. C. Because he received the settlement D. Because he started dating online
C

Happened to me while visiting Chicago a few weeks ago. A young couple with a baby in a pram boarded a crowded bus. The bus driver would not pull out of the stop until the pram was secured in the wheelchair chocks, however an elderly women wouldn't give up her seat (seat needed to be folded up in order to make room for the pram in the wheelchair holding apparatus). We sat there for about 45 minutes while the driver, the mother and the elderly lady argued. At the end, my wife and I offered our seats (more like a commanding, cajoling, what-she-wanted-to hear, kind of discourse), and the lady moved into our seats. The young couple locked down their pram, and the bus took off. Meg and I stood for the rest of the trip. She was really annoyed over having to move, and there was some baggage attached to her situationI hate to have to mention the racial aspects here but it's an important aspect of the story. Most of the passengers were younger white folks (bus was heading through a neighborhood where re-gentrification had taken place). The elderly woman was at least 75 years and the only black person in the front of the crowded bus. She was sitting in a designated seat reserved for elderly or handicapped, and obviously she had earned her status to claim that seat. Unfortunately, it was also the one seat that needed to be vacated if the wheelchair equipment got used. As the bus rode on, her anger simmered. She asked me what I (middle-aged white guy) would do in a spot like that. All I could answer was to offer it up to God. Hot day, no air conditioning on the bus, people just want to get to their destinations. After he got off the bus, the man probably feels: Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. Angry at the couple for making the woman give up her seat B. Angry at the woman for making him give up his seat C. not enough information D. Glad that the ordeal is over
D

Of course, the most unforgettable classmate I had was also the most vicious bully. I attended a boarding school for badly behaved children and it had its fair share of bullies who had been expelled from mainstream schools. But this particular bully had even the teachers running scared. When he went off on one, it could take up to four teachers or members of care staff to get him under control. On my first night at boarding school, he stamped on someone's face and left them permanently disfigured. I never saw anything that bad again but it stayed with me and I could never sleep properly in that school again. On another occasion, it blew up and there were several members of staff restraining him when he farted. To see the teachers all moaning and groaning and huffing and puffing whilst trying to hold him down was hilarious, literally tears in their eyes. He was unpredictable and he didn't care. I once saw him swing a hammer at another pupil and throw snooker balls at another, and he used to punch as if he was throwing something, so it would result in a painful blow. Eventually, the staff couldn't cope with him as they were just as scared as we were. He was removed from the school and placed in a secure unit. The night he left, several of us cried with relief. Last year, I was reading an article in a newspaper when a name caught my eye. It seems he became a hopeless heroin addict at some point and had died in his flat on an overdose of prescription drugs and smack. I felt sad when I read it but I couldn't work out why. Maybe it was because my brother died in the same manner? He was certainly a character, an absolute nutter and ruthless bully who had everyone fearing him. Most definitely the most unforgettable classmate. What was the author probably feel at bedtime? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. He was afraid of what the bully might do to him while he was asleep. B. It was too noisy with all the other kids there and caused him to feel anxiety. C. The author had too many nightmares that made him fearful to go to sleep. D. not enough information
A