I once went out to have fun with a friend of a different nationality, and she wanted to go to a place that featured the music of her culture. Since I have always been interested in other cultures, I was happy to go along. While we were sitting at a table together, an older man came up and asked to buy me a drink. I told him "no thank you, I do not drink". My arm was laying on top of the booth because I was sitting sideways since my big old pregnant belly would not fit under the table. He reached over and took my hand and said " Come dance with me then". I again told him I was not interested in dancing. He began to squeeze my hand and insisting I get up and dance with him. I kept telling him no, and pointing to my belly and saying I would not be dancing with anyone. He just kept squeezing my hand harder and trying to pull me out of the booth. I got angry when I felt something break in my hand and screamed at him "Get your effing hands off me!" The bar owner came over to see what the problem was. I explained that "this jerk just hurt my hand because I would not drink or dance with him!" The owner looked at me crying, and the man laughing, and kicked my friend and I out of the place! Seems the rude SOB was his best friend. I got a bad taste for places of that culture (although I do love the cuisine) and a broken bone in my left hand for my trouble. She and I never went out again because she was so embarrassed about what the guy did to me, but she did take me to the ER on the way home. Question: When did they go to ER? Options: - After an older woman came up and asked to buy a drink - not enough information - After an older man came up and asked to leave the table - After an older man came up and asked to buy a drink === The correct answer is
After an older man came up and asked to buy a drink

Light dappled through the trees in the family courtyard, painting shadows on the paving stones. Li Reiko knelt by her son to look at his scraped knee. "I just scratched it." Nawi squirmed under her hands. Her daughter, Aya, leaned over her shoulder studying the healing. "Maybe Mama will show you her armor after she heals you." Nawi stopped wiggling. "Really?" Reiko shot Aya a warning look, but her little boy's dark eyes shone with excitement. Reiko smiled. "Really." What did tradition matter? "Now let me heal your knee." She laid her hand on the shallow wound. "Ow." "Shush." Reiko closed her eyes and rose in the dark space within her mind. In her mind's eye, Reiko took her time with the ritual, knowing it took less time than it appeared. In a heartbeat, green fire flared out to the walls of her mind. She dissolved into it as she focused on healing her son. When the wound closed beneath her hand, she sank to the surface of her mind. "There." She tousled Nawi's hair. "That wasn't bad, was it?" "It tickled." He wrinkled his nose. "Will you show me your armor now?" She sighed. She should not encourage his interest in the martial arts. His work would be with the histories that men kept, and yet... "Watch." Pulling the smooth black surface out of the ether, she manifested her armor. It sheathed her like silence in the night. Aya watched with obvious anticipation for the day when she earned her own armor. Nawi's face, full of sharp yearning for something he would never have, cut Reiko's heart like a new blade. "Can I see your sword?" She let her armor vanish back into thought. "No." Reiko brushed his hair from his eyes. "It's my turn to hide, right?" Question: Reiko showed Nawi her armor: Options: - before healing his knee - not enough information - right away when Nawi asked - after healing his knee === The correct answer is
before healing his knee

(Question)
I'm not good at sticking to the rules, not even the ones I set myself. I'm really terrible with the rules set by others, especially companies. Even as a child, I could never stay inside the lines in colouring books. Some of you might put this down to poor hand-eye coordination, but I maintain that I was a rule-breaker right from the beginning. One of my roles as an engineer with a multiplicity of companies was to set up projects, define the scope of the work, contract the work out and manage the project. I was setting up a robot-based manufacturing cell for the company in the business of making early cellphones. The cell design required some equipment to be designed and built from scratch, so I got a local designer, Fergus, to give me a quote and got him started on the work. Now, any project will run over budget and take longer than planned and the contractor may come back for more money. And so it was with this designer; he wasn't really vocal about it, but he indicated that the work did take a lot more time and expense than he's originally budgeted. My usual reaction to these things is that this is not my problem. Most of the companies I've work for have lost money, so why should I give a rat's ass if some other company comes up a little short? In this case though, I liked Fergus and, as he was really a one-man operation, I decided to cut him some slack. But first, I had to get permission from my boss to drop another few grand into Fergus's jeans. My boss refused. Having someone tell me I can't do something really brings out my dark side; especially around the time of the full moon. Not long before, we had just waved a fond(-ish) farewell to our president as he was going on to greener fields. As a parting gift, the company bought him either a boat or a motor home, I forget which, and equipped it with three of their cell phones. Question: Why the author asked for more money: Options: - not enough information - he needed the extra money - he wanted to be rich - he wanted to pay more to get the job done === The correct answer is
(Answer)
he wanted to pay more to get the job done