(Question)
Yes, sometimes you just meet people and you know straight away that they are not trustworthy. Before my relationship there were certain boys in my life that I would meet and I would be able to tell straight away whether or not they were going to be a decent partner. I find that I am not attracted to the pretty boy, who loves himself, I go for the more reserved and shy people that I know will treat me right. One time there was this guy back at school who I knew was all over the girls and that didn't want a relationship. He was rude to the teachers and a bit of a bad boy and all the girls swooned over him. I on the other hand was not, at one point he managed to get my number and was texting me. We spoke for a bit but once he started asking me for pictures of myself I stopped the contact, I knew he wasn't to be trusted from the beginning and decided he wasn't right for me. Then it was quite funny how one day we had a class where the rooms were next to each other and in between was a printer that both classes shared. I went to the room to print my work, and he was there waiting also. He asked me for a hug and just raised an eyebrow, then I saw my work had printed so I lent over to grab it and he thought I was going in for the hug. So he shut his eyes and held out his arms only to open them to see me walking off with my paper. His friend also saw what happened and laughed, I think he was a bit embarrassed. But we were young back then and he has found someone now and seems very happy, as am I. Who did she meet at school? - The rude boy. - The pretty boy. - not enough information - The bad boy.
(Answer)
The rude boy.

(Question)
I don't reckon the sun's ever come up quite the same since the day it happened. I've been watching it for years now and to me it still don't look right somehow. Maybe it's just me thinking it, sending myself doolally after what I've done. But I swear every morning it creeps up and it's looking at me, all knowing like. And when you reckon the sun's acting like that over you there isn't a right lot you can do about it, beyond burying yourself away like a mole in the soil. That's what I've been doing more or less in the score or so years that have gone by since. But however tight I shut them curtains to stop that damn sun lighting me up, it still don't stop the inside of my head from pounding out the truth. No way it's ever going to stop harassing me neither, not unless the deaf and dumb lass was to happen right back on my doorstep and give me the chance to tell her that it wasn't never meant to work out this way. The deaf and dumb lass went by the name of Mitzi Barker. Her being deaf and dumb, she was the kind of lass you went up the lane with if you didn't want no-one shouting their gob off about it after. Funny but it's the small things I recall best about her, like the way her hair reeked of bonfires and how that little old checkered dress of hers rode right up her thigh with no help from me. After we'd finished our business we'd head over the trout farm and I'd hunker down and poach us up a couple of rainbows for our tea. That Mitzi Barker, she was thin as an ear of barley and I always figured a good nosh-up was the least I could do for her troubles. Whose hair smelled of bonfires? - Mitzi's mother's. - not enough information - The narrator's. - Mitzi's.
(Answer)
Mitzi's.

(Question)
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. What did the utility man think of the author's request? - That the request is funny. - That the request is insulting. - not enough information - That the request is unnecessary.
(Answer)
That the request is insulting.