Q: I was once distinctly unsettled by a utility man who called to read the gas meter. We were living in an old house at the time and I was home alone with the youngest child (who was around six months old), balanced on my hip as I opened the door. The visitor looked genuine, dressed in the expected uniform. He was around 6.3 and probably not the most tidily presented utility man I'd met, but I believed him to be genuine and willingly invited him in out of the foul weather. It was pouring down outside, a freezing cold winter's day. As I closed the door I remembered that I should have asked to see his company I.D. , so as I opened the meter cupboard and switched on the light, I politely said, 'Oops, I should have asked to see your I.D. if you don't mind?. He stood there in front of the door and made no move to produce his card or do anything in fact. He just glared down at me in the most menacing way and said in a very sinister voice 'Isn't it a little bit late for that now? What are you going to do if I tell you I don't have it?'. There was an embarrassed silence. He continued to stare down at me without making a move for what seemed like minutes but was probably seconds. He didn't produce his I.D., instead he almost grudgingly read the meter as I looked on and then he swiftly left without saying goodbye. I closed the door and locked it, and then took a while to get my pulse rate back to normal and to realise I'd just learned a very big lesson. Such a creepy individual, I didn't make that mistake again. How old is the author? - 35 years - 33 years. - not enough information - 30 years.
A: not enough information

Q: Personally I enjoy doing things outside. You know, the good ol' nature. One time, me and my buddy Alex and some friends decided we were going to go camping. (I know, basic camping story. Well not exactly.) We planned on going for the weekend. Got to the spot and put up our tents like normal campers. But knowing myself and my friends we wanted to drink a couple beers and do some fishing. We did just that. Later that night we had started out camp fire and cooked up some links before bed time. My drunk self wanted to keep the fire going all night to prevent wild animals from coming t our sight. Well at least I thought that'd help. So I needed a bunch of wood to do so. Everyone was asleep by this point but me. So I took myself out into the woods a little deeper to grab a full broken down tree. I thought to myself, "Well if I want to utilize all of this wood I'm going to need to break it into smaller prices right?" Wrong. Well at least it was wrongful of how I planned on doing it. I attempted to break the tree in half by throwing it against another tree, as if I were as strong as the hulk or something. Once I chunked the tree at this tree I messed the entire vacation up. The tree came down on my knee and crushed it. I was in so much pain. I realized that I messed it up pretty bad so I laid there for a second trying to get back to my feet. The next day I couldn't apply any pressure and couldn't walk at all. I was dirty and smelly and needed some serious help on my leg but I was too far from any civilization. Worst nature experience ever! Who hurt his knee? - Alex. - not enough information - The narrator. - The narrator's friends.
A: The narrator.

Q: 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. How long were Jennifer and her mom at the salon? - 1 week - 10 minutes - an hour - not enough information
A: an hour

Q: The swinging doors slammed open. Cedric looked over from where he was sitting on a lab stool, chewed thumbnail between his teeth. His shoulder length blond hair was coated with the shine of someone who has only wet their hair down and not washed. His red streaked eyes were a sure sign of his having been recently woken up. He watched Dorian backing his way through the doors pulling a gurney behind him. "Dorian," Cedric said, then immediately fell silent as Dorian turned around. There was panic in Dorian's eyes and a waxy pallor beneath the stubble on his face that betrayed a lack of sleep. "Dorian," Cedric said again, that one word betraying multiple emotions: a layer of fear spread over top concern for his friend, concern for his own wellbeing, and simple anger at letting himself become involved in this. "Hook her up," Dorian said before moving to a lab stool of his own and sliding a keyboard across the table to rest in front of him, his fingers impatiently tapping the spacebar while he waited for the monitor to respond. With a hiccup of light the screen became active making Dorian's face even more hollow with its sickly glow. He was normally a handsome man with short brown hair that was always perfectly combed. Tonight, though, it was full of unruly licks and his white lab coat, which usually added to his presence as the overall leader of their research team, was cast by the computer's light into awkward shades of green and blue. A large coffee stain down the front appeared to still be wet. Cedric didn't respond. "I said hook her up," Dorian said. "Dorian," Cedric said for the third time. "I said hook her up!" Dorian screamed and Cedric jumped forward to the gurney. Coffee stain or no coffee stain, Dorian was a commanding presence. Cedric looked over from where he was sitting: - after the swinging doors slammed closed - after the swinging doors slammed open - before Cedric fell over - not enough information
A: after the swinging doors slammed open