Write the right answer to the question based on the context passage.

[Q]: This is a beauty myth that I have been wanting to bust for a while as I am surprised how many people actually believe it. I am quite vain so hate having visible grey hairs. Having naturally dark brown hair means that even a single grey hair is very noticeable. From the age of about 22 or 23 I discovered that I had about five grey hairs floating about. As soon as I could see them I'd pull them out. Then, a few months later when they were rearing their ugly heads again - pluck, out they'd come again! Up until I was about 27 or 28 I only had these 5 grey hairs, well that was all I could find anyway. Then from 28 onwards they have been inviting their friends and relatives to move in and I am slowly losing the plucking battle (side note: this increase in grey hairs at 28 was also the year that I got married...I wonder if their is any correlation between getting married and going grey??).
Whenever I was having a conversation with someone about grey hairs and I'd mention that I pull mine out, they'd look at me horrified - 'you can't do that, seven more will grow back in its place' they would all warn me. Even my hairdresser was horrified that I plucked my grey hairs. One day when she was straightening my hair I could see a stray grey sticking up and it was driving me crazy. I asked her to pull it out and she refused saying that I'd end up with more if she pulled it out.
I have never believed this old wives tale, mostly because for five years I kept plucking my greys yet they didn't increase in number. Plus it made no sense to me. Why would plucking greys cause more greys to grow when the same is not true for your coloured hair. Imagine if it were true - that would mean that the cure for baldness would be to pluck out your hair as each hair you pluck causes seven more to grow in its place - doesn't really make sense, does it? Or worse, each time you waxed your legs, seven hairs replaced each pulled one - what state would your legs be in now? Question: Who was having a conversation about grey hairs
[A]: The narrator


[Q]: I was 35 weeks pregnant when I had my stroke. For weeks prior to the event I kept experiencing ‘visual disturbances.' I felt when I was reading a newspaper or book a sense that my eyes were crossing. I'd feel aware right before it would occur and I would rush to look in a mirror only to discover my eyes were not crossing. I informed my OB who blamed it on the blood vessels in my eyes enlarging due to pregnancy. Ummm ok. You know more than me. Later I was told by a surgeon what I was experiencing was ‘textbook' for the passing of blood clots through my occipital area of the brain!
The feeling would eventually subside. I awoke one morning feeling ‘kind of fuzzy' headed. Like I had slept too hard. I sat with my husband at the kitchen table for our morning coffee and newspaper and for no reason I could imagine I was unable to swallow my coffee and it dribbled out the left side of my mouth. My husband asked me what was going on and I apparently told him, I was ‘stroking' out. He got up from the table assuming I was OK and went off to take his morning shower. While in the shower it occurred to him something might not be right. He came back to the table where I was struggling to lift myself from the chair. I put my hands on the table to lift my body and my left hand kept sliding off the edge. He finally got behind me and tried to lift me under my arms and I crumbled to the floor. He then called my OB and told him he thought I'd had a stroke. My OB immediately expressed his doubt but my husband was advised to call an ambulance to get me to the ER. I never really experienced pain from the stroke. Question: Who told the narrator that they were experiencing "textbook" symptoms of a blood clot?
[A]: The surgeon


[Q]: With regular money now coming in from the Guardian column, my regular contributions to other publications and the modest subscription revenue from The Friday Thing, I had been living something of the high life since arriving in London.
I had started hanging out with the great and the good of the dot com world: attending launch parties for new sites, going to parties to celebrate them staying in business for a whole year, eating their lunches, drinking their booze and learning their secrets while they tried to convince me to write about them in my column. Many of these online entrepreneurs had become my friends and I'd managed to find myself a new girlfriend - Maggie, a Welsh journalist who was a restaurant reviewer for a food and drink website. This was a brilliant blag: it meant we could eat at some of London's best restaurants and never pay a penny. Life was wonderful: The Friday Thing and the Guardian column meant that my plan to use the Internet to become hugely famous and successful was firmly on track, I'd made lots of new friends, and, on top of all that, I was getting laid and eating gourmet food for free. Even Sam Lewis was jealous, and he was rich.
Meanwhile, the people I was writing about were not having such an easy time of it. 2003 was a really strange time to be covering the 'new media' industry - mainly because no one was really sure for how long there would be an industry left to cover.
The dot com boom of 1999 seemed like a millennium ago: a period in history as crazy as the tulip craze or the South Sea Bubble look to us now.
The first signs of trouble for the industry had come in 2000. As the century turned, so had the market and - to use the parlance of analysts - the boom had turned out to be a bubble. And then the bubble had burst. Question: Who did the writer eat lunches with while they tried to convince him to write about them in his column?
[A]:
The great and the good of the dot com world


