TMI Hate Multiple-Choice Personality Tests

Seriously, I dislike multiple-choice personality tests, because it's impossible to shoehorn the vastness of the human experience into four options. Impossible. Sure, a certain subset, maybe even a majority, of the population might fall into the four categories listed, but unless it's a simple yes/no answer, the options aren't ever going to be enough.

So I'm doing this under protest, but I'm also doing it because I can't think about some things right now and this is easier to deal with. Plus I get to be all bitchy and complain-y.

1. You encounter a good looking lost and frantic tourist looking for the airport. You:

1. Shrug your shoulders, feigning ignorance.
2. Find the shortest route on your smartphone and get him/her a cab.
3. Direct him/her to the nearest bus stop.
4. Get your car, pick up his/her luggage and speed to the airport.

(A) is a pretty bush-league move, although it hasn't been established that I actually know the directions to the airport. In fact, since I don't have a smartphone and I don't live in a place with plentiful cabs (not to mention that there's no airport here either, but let's leave that), plus I have very little in the way of money for fares for myself, let alone others, if I didn't know where the airport was, I'm afraid I'd probably have to either confess unfeigned ignorance or point them to the bus. Their attractiveness has nothing to do with my decision. I'm happy to give directions, but I'm not always that great at it. Also, the question doesn't say whether this tourist has a car. If they do, then I could, if I knew, give them directions and they could drive themselves. This is one of those tests of selflessness, but it's kind of muddled up with other stuff. So lets go with: (E) Give them as much help as I was able to give, up to and including saying, "Hold on, let me run and get someone who knows where it is."

2. You’re taking a vacation alone. Your destination:

1. Beach resort — I just want to relax and de-stress.
2. A group tour — I don’t want to worry about the details.
3. Wherever the dart lands on the map.
4. Every country with a hostel — my backpack is my home.

I don't like travel, really, so I'm going to go with: (E) Someplace quiet, inexpensive, and cold. Well, cool anyway. I don't want heat.

3. Blackout! You can’t watch TV, so you light some candles and:

1. Dig up some batteries and listen to the radio.
2. Invite the neighbors, light a fire and sing camping songs all night.
3. Find a friend and play games that don’t require electricity. . . Like chess.
4. Drive to the next town — oh sweet Wi-Fi, I’ve found you!

(E) Read a damn book. Jesus, you've got the fucking candles, and books work without power. Have for thousands of years. The written word is a wonderful thing. Are we all so desperate for anything but books? I mean, sure, if the power was out for an extended period I might want to find a friend, if only to help me eat the ice cream in the freezer. But I'd be reading books and sleeping.

4. The man/woman of your dreams has finally proposed. The relationship is perfect, they are everything you’ve ever dreamed of and ever wanted. They are also a multi-millionaire and want you to sign a prenuptial agreement. Which would you do?

1. Sign it
2. Just not get married

What's in this prenup? If this truly is the person of my dreams then it ought to be fair and reasonable. In fact, I'm not totally sure I could have a person of my dreams who was that concerned about a prenup, but okay, I don't care one way or the other really. But I'm not just going to sign it. I'm going to read it. As long as it's not total crap, then I'm happy to sign it. If I were getting legally married, it's just another aspect of that legality. So (C) Read it, discuss it with my affianced, then probably sign it. It's unlikely to be the deal-breaker in a relationship of mine.

5. If you were going to marry an inanimate object, what would you marry?

I'm not sure I'd want to marry an inanimate object; I'm not super into marriage, and it seems like I wouldn't be getting much benefit in exchange. But okay, if I have to choose, I'd like to marry Berkshire Hathaway. It's a corporation so it's legally an individual, and it's rich. It could provide for me. Plus it knows Warren Buffett and Warren Buffett seems like a reasonable enough guy, for a super-rich Wall Street type anyway.

Bonus: You’ve just inherited a manufacturing plant that specializes in plastics. What are you going to make?

There's a Graduate joke here but I can't make it. I'm going to plow a lot of money into R and D on cellulose and other renewable/recyclable plastics. Then I might go into cheap farming supplies for poor countries. Basically, anything helpful, and nothing military. Then I'd promptly go bankrupt and live out the rest of my days as a burbling heap in the gutter. Basically, my life plan, only with a plastic factory somehow involved.

There, I managed to answer all the multiple choice questions with a write-in. Haha, I win. Now back to depression.