Question: I referenced this in my answer to Why do guys pretend they don't understand when the girl they like gives them all hints of liking them too? While attending my MOS AIT in the US Army (good lord, was that 25 years ago???), a few of us had a hotel party. It didn’t get too crazy as it was mainly to get off post. If I remember right, after some folks left, there was one couple, a couple girls (maybe 3?), and myself who stayed over. I had known them all for a month or so and had spent a ton of time hanging out at the barracks or around the school area. The couple took one bed, the girls took the other, and I took the floor at the foot of the girls’ bed. About the time everyone started to nod off, one of the girls woke me, asking if I would share the blanket, as the bed was too crowded. She and I had both recently gotten engaged to people two plane flights away and had been nothing more than friends previously - with no hint of anything else… I thought nothing of it and said sure. After a few minutes, she said she couldn’t sleep and asked if she could snuggle up a little. I thought nothing of it and said sure. I started to think… hunh… this is peculiar… After a few more minutes, she asked if I minded if we kissed a little. At that point, I started to get the idea… but that was as far as I thought anything was going to happen as I thought, hunh, OK, maybe she misses her fiance. I know I do. Then we progressed to (very quiet) sex at her request. As far as we knew, everyone else in the room was asleep - at least they never hinted at knowing. We dated another month or two while we were both there. I was so clueless as to how she felt and it took FAR too long to figure out what was happening. How long after knowing the girl did he have sex with her? Pick the correct answer from the following options: - After a few more minutes. - not enough information - Another month or two. - He had known her for a month or so.
Answer: He had known her for a month or so.

Question: I have unfriended someone over his near daily harassment of me to come over to his way of thinking. Way back in 2006, when Facebook was a young whelp and I had a newborn who steadfastly refused to sleep at night, I would sit and connect with old friends from university and high school, many of whom I had not seen or spoken with in more than a decade. One of those people was Scott. Scott was a super nice guy. He was a year ahead of me at university. He was a bit socially awkward but you really couldn’t hope to meet a more genuine individual. Like most people, Scott had had some ups and downs in his life. At some point he found religion. Like he really, really found it. Now, I am somewherere between an agnostic and an atheist but my attitude is generally live and let live. But Scott couldn’t do that. Almoost every day he would send me some sort of message. “What do you pray about?” I don’t. “God loves you, he gave his son for you, why don’t you love Him?” Because I don’t believe He or his Son exist. “What are you going to say when you die and stand before Satan instead of God?” Missed that by a mile, didn’t I? This went on for a few months. His questions became increasing unhinged and the only thing that mattered to him were his beliefs. Mine were of no consequence. I had asked him, politely at first and then more assertively, to stop bombarding me with his attempts to convert me or to witness to me. All to no avail. Finally, I’d had enough and decided I had better things to do. I pulled the plug and unfriended Scott. He’s sent me several friend requests over the years, all of which I have summarily ignored. The author unfriended Scott Pick the correct answer from the following options: - While the baby was being born - not enough information - Before the baby was born - After the baby was born
Answer: After the baby was born

Question: Once, while grating potatoes to make potato pancakes, I had a Proustian moment. I can't lay claim to much in the way of literary knowledge, but I do know that Proust's 'Remembrance of Things Past' was prompted by his biting into a pastry and feeling a sense of overwhelming pleasure with no recognizable cause. In my case, I was instantly transported back to the grandmother's kitchen as she and my mother grated potatoes in order to make 'poutine râpée', also known as 'poutines'. People will immediately flash to the Quebecker ethnic food known by the same name. However, in spite of all the Franco-culinary posturing, this is really only French Fries with gravy and, oh yeah, can I have some cheese curds on that? One etymological source indicates that 'poutine' really means 'mess'. If you come from my part of the country, the Quebecker poutine is just another entry in the long list of dishes that will cause you to keel over from a myocardial infarction while shoveling a foot of snow out of the driveway shortly after you've retired; sometimes before. Nope, poutines as I know them are a different creature entirely. They seem to be more of an Acadian thing and none of my friends had even heard of them, much less eaten a single one. Because of the work involved, my mother only made poutines for special times: Christmas, say or Easter. My mother would borrow this grater that was about two feet long and she and my grandmother would set to work. Generally, they started off with an enormous paper sack of potatoes, about 25 pounds or so (We used to buy potatoes by the cartload and store them in a wooden bin in the basement. Because we were cheap labour, the kids would be sent down to retrieve a few for the family meal. It was creepy to descend into the dank cellar, feel our way through the dim obstacle course formed by my grandfather's thousands of tools and bits of wood and locate the bin. After a time in storage, the eyes on potatoes began to sprout pale tendrils and it didn't take much imagination to visualize all kinds... After the story ended the main character made Pick the correct answer from the following options: - french fries - not enough information - poutine - potato pancakes
Answer:
poutine