input with options: "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? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- NIght shifts pays more money
- He likes working with Ray
- he has another job
- not enough information
output: he has another job

Q: Not exactly. I have no problem with divorce since, as others have stated, everyone has their reasons, however there was one person that I dated briefly but upon hearing the reason why he divorced I opted to end the relationship. I remember, we were having brunch and were talking about our past relationships and what happened. He brought up his marriage. I had previously known his divorce but, up until this point, not the reasoning. He told me, straight out, that he had cheated. Now, cheating in itself is one thing. I try not to judge since everyone has a past and I was never always innocent myself, however his attitude about it was what was very off-putting to me. He didn't seem remotely fazed by what he was telling me at all. There he was, spreading jelly on his toast as he told me about all the women he had cheated on his wife with. He told me about how it had started with a secretary (talk about cliches!) and then graduated to trysts in motels with girls off Tinder all with the same amount of casualness as someone describing how to make an omelette! And when he finally finished the tale of his cheating adventures I asked him if he regretted cheating on his wife with so many women, His answer? "Oh Definitely." Oh good! So at least he regrets his actions, right? Or he's at least a little sorry about it> Wrong. "One of the reasons I regret not divorcing her sooner. Had I divorced her sooner, I wouldn't have to have cheated on her so much. But it is what it is and, well, I was unhappy." I have no problems with divorced men. I can forgive a man who has cheated in his past. But a man who had no problems cheating so frivolously and, in all honestly, would likely do it again without problems? Nope, not for me. Question: Who did he take to motels? === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- Girls off of Tinder
- His secretary
- not enough information
- The woman writing the text

A: Girls off of Tinder

Yes; I have a rare form of cluster/ice pick headaches that can affect any part of my body. It's quite uncommon, but essentially I can get an excruciating migraine in my arm, leg, etc., on top of getting them in my head/temples. For years my family and I had no idea what was happening, and with no vocabulary to properly explain what was happening, I described it for about fifteen years as "beeping." Doctors told us it was anything from growth spurts to a grab for attention, and for a while I gave up trying to figure out what they were. When they got worse and I couldn't ignore them anymore, I was finally sent to a neurologist, who diagnosed me with ice pick headaches. I let out a sigh of relief that I didn't even know I was holding in; I felt like I could finally breathe. Years of stress and confusion washed off of me, and I started taking a beta blocker to prevent them. I've been on them for a few years now, and it's changed my life for the better. I used to be terrified of learning to drive, for many reasons, but a large one being that if I got an ice pick headache on the road, I couldn't guarantee the safety of those around me if I was at the wheel. Now I'm considering finally getting my license (considering - I still don't like being behind the wheel), I don't double over in white hot pain randomly anymore, and when I do get a cluster headache, I can still function. It almost sounds a little silly, but really, they were crippling, and being able to work through them on my own? It's the greatest gift I've given to myself. You know yourself better than anyone, even if you feel like you don't know yourself. If something feels wrong, don't just live with it - keep pushing for a correct diagnosis! Question: What is the author's dosage level of the beta blocker? === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- 1000 mg once daily.
- 1500 mg once daily.
- 1000 mg twice daily.
- not enough information

Answer:
not enough information