What are the worst examples of false advertising you've seen? Did you fall prey to their claims? Rather that vouch for myself - my story is trite, and not particularly interesting - I'll relay the tale one of my nurses shared with me when I was laid up in the hospital for a few weeks. Call her R. R was from an Eastern European country. We chit-chatted a lot, while she was taking my blood pressure readings and stuff. Lots of fun stories! But she relayed to me one of her first U.S. memories: She wanted to lose weight. She was impressed by some things the U.S. had to offer - "you have actual nutritional information on everything!" - and thus figured everything she encountered was on the level. And she found a "miracle cure" company who was along those lines! "These are AWESOME miracle shoe inserts! Wear them, and the pounds will melt away!" She saved her pennies and dimes; she sprung for the inserts. She received them... and they were shoe inserts; that much was true. But then there was their documentation: "using these insoles, combined with a 1200 calorie-per-day diet...." Like a 1200-calorie diet won't likely involve weight-loss, no matter what else you did, shoe inserts aside. The inserts did nothing, obviously. It was a sham. At which point she knew she was snookered, but really had no recourse. She wasn't explicit about it, but I got the feeling that it was a leading factor towards her chosen profession. "I might not have been the most sage medical person ever, but I'm gonna rectify that, and if ever I hear someone falling for that sort of gambit again, I'll be there to nip those sentiments in the bud with my own anecdotes." Which is awesome. I still feel for her. I wish I had contact information, so I could touch base, and express those thoughts personally. But that's the most personally resonant version of false advertising affecting someone that I've seen. Which statement about R is probably true? A. R feels the advertisements in the US are honest. B. R is a gullible consumer. C. R learns from hr experiences. D. not enough information
C

(Question)
He had a 12" Sony black-and-white, tuned to MTV, sitting on a chair at the end of the bed. He could barely hear it over the fan in the window. He sat in the middle of the bed because of the sag, drumming along absently to Steve Winwood's "Higher Love." The sticks were Regal Tip 5Bs. They were thinner than 2Bs--marching band sticks--but almost as long. Over the years Stan had moved farther out over the ends. Now the butts of the sticks fit into the heels of his palms, about an inch up from the wrist. He flipped the right stick away when the phone rang. "Stan, dude! You want to work tomorrow?" "Yeah, probably. What have you got, Darryl? You don't sound right." "Does the name Keven Stacey mean anything to you?" "Wait a minute." Stan switched the phone to his other ear. "Did you say Keven Stacey? As in Foolsgold, Kevin Stacey? She's going to record at CSR?" "You heard me." Stan could see Darryl sitting in the control room, feet up on the console, wearing double-knit slacks and a T-shirt, sweat coming up on his balding forehead. "This is some kind of bullshit, right? She's coming in for a jingle or a PSA." "No bullshit, Stanley. She's cutting a track for a solo album she's going to pitch to Warner's. Not a demo, but a real, honest-to-Christ track. Probably a single. Now if you're not interested, there's plenty of other drummers in LA..." "I'm interested. I just don't understand why she wants to fuck with a rinky-dink studio like yours. No offense." "Don't harsh me, bud. She's hot. She's got a song and she wants to put it in the can. Everybody else is booked. You try to get into Record One or Sunset Sound. Not for six months you won't get in. Even if you're Keven Stacey. You listening, Stan?" He heard Darryl hitting the phone on the edge of the console. "That's the Big Time, dude. Knocking on your door." What is Stan going to tell Darryl? A. He was too busy to work. B. He would play drums at the studio. C. He would have to think about it. D. not enough information
(Answer)
B

I went over to a guy's house to see a movie that he had acted in. It was our first date. He starts the movie and I settle back to watch. I was in film school and the guy, Nick, had told me he wanted my "professional" opinion. We're five minutes into the movie when Nick reaches for the remote and says, "Let's fast forward to my part." I reply that, in order to adequately critique the movie, I should see it from the beginning. Nick assures me that his scene is self-contained and needs no context. A fight scene plays. Nick pauses and asks, "What did you think?" I look confused and Nick says, "Did you miss me? Let's play it again." I watch the scene again, but still can't make out Nick. Nick rewinds, plays and pauses. "There I am," he says, gazing fondly at the screen. Except the screen was gray. No actors. No landscape. Nothing, but gray snow. "What do you think," he asked, his eyes never leaving the empty screen. At that point, I realized Nick was crazy. "That's great!," I said. "But look at the time. Time sure flies when you're having fun." Nick was still staring at the screen with a strange little smile. I stood up. Nick stood up, now not smiling. "You're not going anywhere," Nick said. It's funny how fear works. I've found that in times of danger, adrenaline supersedes fear. I managed to trick Nick, hide from Nick and finally to escape after more than an hour of suspense. Turns out it wasn't even Nick's place. He had taken me to the house of someone he had ripped off in a drug deal. I am very wary now of going to a guy's home unless I know him extremely well. Why did the author want to leave? A. Because she had to wake up early the next morning B. not enough information C. Because she was afraid she would fall in love with Nick D. Because she realized Nick was crazy
D