M: I really don’t know what to do this summer. I can’t afford to just sit around, and there don’t seem to be any jobs available.W: Why don’t you try house-sitting Last summer my friend Sally house-sat for the Gammons when they went away on vacation. Mrs. Gammon hired Sally to stay in their house because she didn’t want it left empty.M: You mean the Gammons paid Sally just to live in their houseW: It wasn’t easy. She had to mow the lawn and water the houseplants. And when Jodi house-sat for Mr. Johnson, he had to take care of his pets.M: House-sitting sounds like a good job. I guess it’s a little like baby-sitting-except you’re taking care of a house instead of children.W: The student employment office still has a few jobs posted.M: Do I just have to fill out an applicationW: Sally and Jodi had to interview with the homeowners and provided three references each.M: That seems like a lot of trouble for a summer job.W: Well, the homeowners want some guarantee so that they can trust the house-sitter. You know, they want to make sure you’re not the type who’ll throw wild parties in their house, or move a group of friends in with you.M: House-sitters who do that sort of thing probably aren’t paid then.W: Usually they’re paid anyway just because the homeowners don’t want to make a fuss. But if the homeowner reported it, then the house-sitter wouldn’t be able to get another job. So if the homeowner reported it, then the house-sitter wouldn’t be able to get another job. So why don’t you applyM: Yeah, I think I will. What/Who should students contact if they want to get a summer job().
A. The Student Union.
B. The Student Employment Office.
C. The Workers’ Union.
D. The Student Pan-time Job Office.
Not long ago, a mysterious Christmas card dropped through our mail slot. The envelope was addressed to a man named Raoul, who, I was relatively certain, did not live with us. The envelope wasn’t sealed, so I opened it. The inside of the card was blank. Ed, my husband, explained that the card was both from and to the newspaper deliveryman. His name was apparently Raoul, and Raoul wanted a holiday tip. We were meant to put a check inside the card and then drop the envelope in the mail. When your services are rendered at 4 a.m. , you can’t simply hang around, like a hotel bellboy expecting a tip. You have to be direct.So I wrote a nice holiday greeting to this man who, in my imagination, fires The New York Times from his bike aimed at our front door, causing more noise with mere newsprint than most people manage with sophisticated black market fireworks.With a start, I realized that perhaps the reason for the 4 a.m.—wake-up noise was not ordinary rudeness but carefully executed spite: I had not tipped Raoul in Christmases past. I honestly hadn’t realized I was supposed to. This was the first time he’d used the card tactic. So I got out my checkbook. Somewhere along the line, holiday tipping went from an optional thank-you for a year of services to a Mafia-style protection racket (收取保护费的黑社会组织).Several days later, I was bringing our garbage bins back from the curb when I noticed an envelope taped to one of the lids. The outside of the envelope said MICKEY. It had to be another tip request, this time from our garbage collector. Unlike Raoul, Mickey hadn’t enclosed his own Christmas card from me. In a way, I appreciated the directness. "I know you don’t care how merry my Christmas is, and that’s fine, " the gesture said. "I want $30, or I’ll ’forget’to empty your garbage bin some hot summer day. "I put a check in the envelope and taped it back to the bin. The next morning, Ed noticed that the envelope was gone, though the trash hadn’t yet been picked up: "Someone stole Mickey’s tip! " Ed was quite certain. He made me call the bank and cancel the check.But Ed had been wrong. Two weeks later, Mickey left a letter from the bank on our steps. The letter informed Mickey that the check, which he had tried to cash, had been cancelled. The following Tuesday morning, when Ed saw a truck outside, he ran out with his wallet. "Are you Mickey"The man looked at him with scorn. "Mickey is the garbageman. I am the recycling. " Not only had Ed insulted this man by hinting that he was a garbageman, but he had obviously neglected to tip him. Ed ran back inside for more funds. Then he noticed that the driver of the truck had been watching the whole transaction. He peeled off another twenty and looked around, waving bills in the air. "Anyone else"Had we consulted the website of the Emily Post Institute, this embarrassing breach of etiquette (礼节) could have been avoided. Under "trash/recycling collectors" in the institute’s Holiday Tipping Guidelines, it says, "$10 to $30 each. " You may or may not wish to know that your pet groomer, hairdresser, mailman and UPS guy all expect a holiday tip. According to the passage, the author felt () to give Raoul a holiday tip.
A. excited
B. delighted
C. embarrassed
D. forced