Question: “What was your worst makeup disaster?” Do fingernails count? I hope so, because this is a good one: I was 21 years old. I worked for a major commercial airline. A friend of mine and I decided to go to Puerto Rico for a long weekend. It was our first trip to Puerto Rico. The hotel at which we stayed had a lovely (classy/expensive) restaurant serving continental fare. So, we decided to have our first dinner there. We dressed to the nines. Our hair and makeup were perfect. I had fake fingernails (not acrylic - those were fairly new back then. I had the type one glues on). Those fingernails were long, and painted a very bright - and obvious - red. When the waiter came to take our drink order, we both ordered glasses of wine. The waiter brought the wine, set it down on the table, and waited to take our meal orders. I smoked back then, and at the time, smoking was still allowed in restaurants. In a 21-year-old attempt to look classy and sophisticated, at that moment I took out a cigarette, put it between my lips, picked up my lighter, and lit my cigarette - or so I thought. Unfortunately, my long, red, fake thumbnail got in the way of the flame, and it caught on fire. The waiter’s mouth dropped open, his eyes wide. He froze in place. I was horrified. The flame was literally shooting up from my nail! And smoke; the nail was plastic! Quickly scanning the table for the closest thing with which I could extinguish the flame, I spied my glass of wine. As nonchalantly as possible, I stuck my thumb in the glass. There was a sizzle as the flaming nail hit the wine. When I withdrew my thumb from the glass, the nail was melted, black, and curled under. Ever the professional, the waiter regained his composure and proceeded to take our orders without missing a beat - but I’m sure I was the talk of the kitchen for the rest of the evening. So much for my attempt at appearing “classy” and “sophisticated”…. Question: At the end of the story how did the author feel? Options: - refined.   - Classy.   - Embarrassed.   - not enough information === The correct answer is
Answer: Embarrassed.

Question: For a month, anything I consumed would result in me rushing to the wash room and throwing up. When this started, I thought it’s something to do with what I had previously eaten which was stale and was having a reaction to bad food. When the problem persisted for a week where I was barely able to keep my food from coming out, I went to visit my doctor. He asked me questions and gave me some vitamins and pills before and after food to stop the vomiting. They didn’t work. Even though I was not sexually active, I got my self a pregnancy test which showed negitive. I tried to eat healthy, but to no avail. 15 mins was the max my food was inside my stomach. I was becoming weak from all the throwing up and rapidly loosing weight. I went to my doctor again and he said I was stressed. Wrote me some more pills. Nothing worked. My Mom got paranoid and took me to another doctor for a second opinion. The doctor asked me to write down everything I ate with the number of times I threw up for the next 2 days and return to his clinic. Only then, were they able to diagnose that I was lactose intolerant!! Milk, milk products, cheese, butter, cream, nothing seems to agree with my stomach anymore. Surprisingly this is what I used to eat - cereals with milk, eggs with butter, pizza, pasta, lasagne, cheese with bread, tall long glasses of iced coffee, frappes and bam, my body would reject them within 15 minutes. It was terrible switching from coffee with milk to black coffee, until I started developing a taste for it. Pizza’s are something I still can’t eat. I need to remove the cheese from the slice and unfortunately my body is able to only take one slice of Pizza. Pasta, white sauce is a strict no no unless I want to feel bloated and throw up. So yep. My doctor was unable to diagnose me. Thankfully I did take a second opinion. Question: What was her favorite pizza? Options: - Cheese   - Veggie   - Meat lovers   - not enough information === The correct answer is
Answer: not enough information

Question: Roland felt his stomach knotting. Having ridden out of the city through the Saint-Denis Gate, he now was nearly home, and the hurt inside was cutting so deep that he thought it would drive him mad. He repeated again and again the pledge he had just made to Nicolette: I am your true troubadour, now and forever. It felt like a knife stabbing into him. I do love her, as I have not loved any other - except Diane. Under his fur-lined mantle he was sweating, despite the bone-deep chill of the January night. Was my pledge to Nicolette a lie? No, not now that Diane has vowed herself to God. He had always believed that a man or a woman could love but one person. For all the years he had loved Diane, he had accepted that as a sacred law of Love. It was the way things should be. But it was not the way they were. Not for him. What if I had known, that day I saw Nicolette at Chinon, that Diane was still alive? I would have wanted Nicolette just as much, but would not have begun this. There would have been no messages, no song in her garden. But I was sure Diane was dead. There was nothing but a memory of a younger time to check my feelings for Nicolette. And then, when I found Diane again, I could not have her. I had lost her forever. So at last I wrote again to Nicolette. But tonight, when Nicolette would have let me make love to her - and how I want her! - I could not go beyond an embrace and a kiss. Not as long as I still love Diane. When he had set out, a full moon had hung low above the huddled rooftops of the university town. Now the silver disk was high overhead, and he could discern the small house he had bought two years ago with money he brought with him from Sicily. Question: Who did Roland pledged his love to? Options: - Diane   - Nicolette   - not enough information   - God === The correct answer is
Answer:
Nicolette