Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: The drive up to Rick's place in the hills always made me sick. Just after he bought the house with his ill gotten gains from his band's over-hyped, over-marketed, and over-bought sophomore Disc, he drove me out to see it in his beautiful but nauseating '70 Datsun 240 Z. All the smog combined with the pinball effects of winding up the hill at teeth-numbing speeds had me puking for an hour after we got there. I took the last turn at the top of the hill and watched the rising sun crest over the black blocks of the city, her angel wings soiled and cheapened with the soot of 12 million get-away drivers. Rick's house came into view out of the fog, its large glass panes sparkling like the last clean surface of an oversized ashtray. I parked between a blue hatchback and Rick's favorite toy: a 350 horsepower Impreza he had smuggled here from Japan. All his more expensive rides were in the garage, collecting dust and gaining vintage resale value. I rang the bell. I waited and watched a couple of squirrels fight over a small treasure in the bushes. The door opened. "Dingo." "Hey, Luna." Her job as Rick's assistant was to take care of his place while he was out being a rock star. She made sure all his bills were paid, his animals were fed, and that the subsequent fallout from any parties she might have in his absence didn't leave any lasting damage. She was pretty by most standards, gorgeous by others. Short with a tight schoolgirl body and raven hair that teased her avian shoulders. But by whatever standard, her beauty was like a rare and exotic bird she kept caged behind the bars of her perfect teeth. As soon as she opened her mouth it flew away. Question: How long does it take to get to Ricks place? Options: A. Several hours B. 10 minutes only! C. not enough information D. about two days, curling around the mountain
A

Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: I'm sitting at the airport on a Sunday morning waiting for my flight to Las Vegas for the now-annual pilgrimage to the NamesCon conference. A few years ago, Vegas was one of my "bucket list" places one of those iconic cities that one should visit at least once in their life. For me, once was enough. This is now my 4th (I think?) trip to Vegas, and while the city has a lot to offer, it's just not my cup of tea. For one thing, I'm not a gambler, like at all. I don't have anything against it, I just don't enjoy it. It either feels pointless or stressful to me. The city itself makes me a little sad in some cases, it reeks of desperation. Last time I was there, my cab driver entertained me with stories of how she was working 3 jobs to save up enough to join some mega-massive bingo game. She won a small jackpot a few years back and that allowed her to work only one job for a few months. She was hoping to win again so she could cut back to 1 or 2 jobs. I wondered how many people do similar things gambling their money away, in big or small chunks, in the hopes of that big score and in the process, putting themselves in a not-great financial situation. I suppose as long it makes them happy, then it's all OK, but I can't help but think someone like my cab driver might be happier overall if she only worked 1 job instead of 3, instead of working extra jobs to save up money to gamble her way to financial freedom. But that's for her to decide, not me. The juxtaposition of extreme and in-your-face wealth and the homeless people on the Strip also makes me sad. It's difficult to see people begging for food and sleeping on the street while all around you, millions of dollars are poured into creating a massive playground with every type of indulgence possible. But I'm the first to say that I've enjoyed staying in some of the nicer hotel properties there and eating several excellent meals at some of the finer restaurants in the area, so I'm not exactly helping to solve the problem. Question: Why did the author say he wasn't a big fan of Vegas? Options: A. because he had been there so often B. because he would rather go some place else C. because he found many of its features unsavory D. not enough information
C

Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: "Hey, guy." "No, this is Ray." He smiled, leaned back in his chair. It was, of course, Pete. Pete was the night shift guy at Crossroads Detox across town. Ray called it the Jesus Shop because it was wholly supported by a contingent of local churches who saw addicts as a potential ministry. Apparently Jesus saved--not only from sin and hell, but also from Dark Eyed Jim Beam. Pete was a relatively innocuous born again fundie who volunteered his time two or three nights a week. When he was not saving the world, his Clark Kent was actually a steady CPA job with the local H&R Block. He'd been pulling shifts for about six months, knew nothing about drugs beyond that bad people used them to escape their problems and that they were tools of Satan, and he always needed Ray's advice about one thing or another. This arrangement was not problematic as Pete had long ago given up trying to convert him. Pete was also the only guy in the city who was, as Ray figured it, making less money than he was at such an hour. In return for Ray's magnanimity, Pete had done Ray's taxes for free last year. They had never actually met, though Ray had faxed him the tax forms and Pete had faxed back a photo of his two pre-teen daughters and his geriatric Lab. "What's the problem?" Ray asked. "I have a recalcitrant." That's what he called them, the drunk and definitely disorderly. Pete's vocabulary did not include the word shithead either in its singular or plural. "Pete, they're all like that. Alcohol is bad medicine. That's why places like ours are in business. To make them calcitrant." "I know that." Pete sounded a little annoyed. There was some commotion in the background, a knocking on doors. Question: Why does Pete volonteere at night? Options: A. NIght shifts pays more money B. He likes working with Ray C. he has another job D. not enough information
C