This was 20 years ago, maybe. My girlfriend (at the time) and I were planning to go on a day trip on a Saturday, and so the Friday night before, we decided to celebrate our mini vacation by having a few drinks at a local bar. It was a known hangout for bikers, and had a reputation of being a rowdy place, but I was on good terms with a few of the regulars, and felt safe enough. As the night wore on, I started getting out of control, and didn't even realize it. I loved my girlfriend deeply, and had no desire to be with anyone else, but that night I was most definitely not myself. I was told that I openly flirted with the barmaid in front of my girlfriend, bet and lost on the pool table several times, and tried to start fights with some of the patrons, as I strongly suspected that someone had slipped something into my drink. At the time, I was a seasoned drinker, and the amount of alcohol I had consumed that night was pretty minimal in comparison, so naturally I was convinced that someone was messing with me. To this day I'm still not sure if my drinks were spiked, or it was just one of those nights. I do know that I hadn't eaten prior to that, so I would tend to choose the latter culprit, even though it pained me to admit it. I woke up the next afternoon in my own bed, with no memory of the trip home, a screaming hangover headache, and no girlfriend. She eventually forgave me, and we were together off and on for a few more years before we grew apart. I haven't set foot in that bar since, so I have no idea if I'm barred, or how the people there felt about me. I hope they've moved on, but I'm still too scared to find out. It's an experience I never want to repeat, even though I didn't actually experience anything. :/ What do the bikers do? - Accountants - not enough information - Doctors - Lawyers
not enough information
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Michael Morzeny put his hands into the pockets of his overcoat and hugged the fabric tighter around his body. The winter wind hurried down Columbus Avenue and the hem of his coat flapped around his knees letting little pockets of cold waft up to invade the warmth his body had spent so much time preparing and storing around his torso. With a bitter squeeze of his hands, his knuckles now getting cold, Morzeny bowed his square shoulders to the wind and continued walking. At sixty-seven years old the New York winters bothered Morzeny more than he cared to admit. And, although no doctor would admit it to him, he was positive that the first faint hints of arthritis tweaking through his hands were made worse by the cold. At every cross street the setting sun flashed through to the avenue in shades of crisp pink and red. Morzeny didn't want to be working right now. But these outings were the price he paid for having a hybrid job, owning buildings and brokering as many of his own leases as possible. When he had first come to the city he had been told that he needed a job, not for income, his providers took care of that, but for his own sanity. Something to keep him going. He had asked for something in real estate and had never bothered to wonder what other paths he might have taken. He had always been able to focus to the point of blindness. It helped him in every aspect of his work. He arrived at the brownstone building housing the apartment he was to show tonight. His building was tucked into a short row of buildings that squatted over the street, their steps reaching towards the curb like stunted growths. More to prove to himself that he could do it than anything else, Morzeny took the front steps two at a time. What is probably true about Morzeny? - He is a successful stock broker - not enough information - He likes selling real estate - He owns a department store
He likes selling real estate
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I've shared my feelings about Temple Spa before in my review of Repose Aromatherapy Resting Cream. Basically, my first experience was a very pushy salesperson at a wedding fair several years ago which really put me off the brand, and it took me a while to try their products again. But when I did I was really impressed, and I can honestly say that nothing I've reviewed since has disappointed me! Today I'm reviewing Temple Spa Trufflesque, an Ultra Hydration & Radiance Masque for the face. Trufflesque aims to give hydration and radiance to the skin, and plumps to help reduce the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles. It's a luxury mask suitable for all skin types, particularly dry or dull skin, and it helps to rejuvenate tired skin too. The impressive list of ingredients includes black truffles, gold and silk peptides, but unfortunately these expensive additives contribute to Trufflesque's slightly expensive price tag. The first thing that strikes me about this product is the amazing packaging. All Temple Spa products have really amazing, premium packaging, and I feel that they add to the feeling that you are about to use something really special on your skin. The dark glass jar has a gold lid and it is nestled in a gold and chocolate brown box with the most amazingly cute mask brush slotted in too. The mask itself is gold and it shimmers so prettily, if you look closely it's almost as if you can see the particles of real gold! To apply you just paint the golden mask onto your face with the cute little brush (it makes applying the mask so easy) then leave for 15-20 minutes. The mask doesn't dry completely, it stays a little bit tacky to the touch, and I find that it makes my skin tingle quite a bit. For extra benefits you can also then massage the mask into your skin for around 2 minutes, before removing with a damp muslin cloth or flannel. What happened before the writer reviewed this product? - they worked for the brand they are reviewing - a friend recommended the product - they had a bad first impression of the company - not enough information
they had a bad first impression of the company
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Happened to me while visiting Chicago a few weeks ago. A young couple with a baby in a pram boarded a crowded bus. The bus driver would not pull out of the stop until the pram was secured in the wheelchair chocks, however an elderly women wouldn't give up her seat (seat needed to be folded up in order to make room for the pram in the wheelchair holding apparatus). We sat there for about 45 minutes while the driver, the mother and the elderly lady argued. At the end, my wife and I offered our seats (more like a commanding, cajoling, what-she-wanted-to hear, kind of discourse), and the lady moved into our seats. The young couple locked down their pram, and the bus took off. Meg and I stood for the rest of the trip. She was really annoyed over having to move, and there was some baggage attached to her situationI hate to have to mention the racial aspects here but it's an important aspect of the story. Most of the passengers were younger white folks (bus was heading through a neighborhood where re-gentrification had taken place). The elderly woman was at least 75 years and the only black person in the front of the crowded bus. She was sitting in a designated seat reserved for elderly or handicapped, and obviously she had earned her status to claim that seat. Unfortunately, it was also the one seat that needed to be vacated if the wheelchair equipment got used. As the bus rode on, her anger simmered. She asked me what I (middle-aged white guy) would do in a spot like that. All I could answer was to offer it up to God. Hot day, no air conditioning on the bus, people just want to get to their destinations. How did Meg and the author ride the bus after the squabble? - They stood for the rest of the trip. - They gave up their seats for the young couple with a baby. - not enough information - They offered their seats on the bus.
They stood for the rest of the trip.
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