Note: The Rules & Guidelines for the Yes Test can be found here.
The Canasian and I were lamenting about death over a mug of pasta sauce like tomato basil soup, in a nondescript restaurant in Whistler, Canada. It's a small enough restaurant, so I felt the subtle stares of the couple a few tables down when the Canasian rather loudly announced, "If I'm ever in a state where all I can do is blink, just smother me with a pillow and put me out of my misery, okay?"
We looked at each other and the energy of the conversation shifted from a pseudo-joke to a serious request. We put down our spoons and reached across the table to shake hands, understanding that we were asking each other to potentially make a call that no one else in our lives would reasonably make.
The conversation took this route to begin with because we were talking about our mutual frustration with connecting with people, mainly because we both hold rather pragmatic and libertarian beliefs that tend to turn people off when you say things like, "Honestly, if I found out I was going to die tomorrow, I wouldn't really care that much." And they definitely don't appreciate it when you start getting into the gritty details of what sorts of things you would do in the next twelve hours, in between your sauce soup and your inevitable death. I might call a few people. I'd write an email or two, mostly to reveal passwords and nominate the person who gets all of my riches. I'd probably go on a twitter rant (my first ever, incidentally.) But mostly, I would just take a handful of MDMA and get very, very drunk.
This whole conversation brings up a bigger issue with the Yes Test, though. Does a yes still apply to a question that wouldn't come to fruition until after the year has passed? In this case, I would have said yes either way. There's only so many people who you can trust to pull the plug in the event that you end up in some sort of Million Dollar Baby situation, but for any other request, I'm not sure a yes will be valid.