Tehran nights
Part 3: "Look, it's not like I do hardcore drugs, I only smoke the pot."

May 18, 2007
iranian.com

PART (1) (2) (3) (4)
"Let dem in Roya. Stop squeezing dat von's cheeks and let her go so she can come and give her grandmother some love too." Shrieked my grandmother again from down the hall. She just shrieks when she talks. I think it's a reaction to my grandfather's declining hearing ability. This time though, her voice was followed by her body and she was moving at a swift pace.

"Yes, Mamani." Roya Said as she linked her arm under Rob's. "Come on Rob. I'll show you to your room so you can wash up." She said all fidgety.

"No. Let him kiss Mamani first. Roya, what is wrong with you? You crack-head. Are you high?" I asked sarcastically as I grabbed Rob's arm and unlocked it from her arm. I pulled him towards my torso and put my own arms around his waist. Mamani had reached us at this point. So, I stretched my arms out to her. Instead, she stepped back and perused my attire. I'm guessing that it was to see if I'd gained weight or not. I predicted this and promptly reeled her in for a big hug before she had a chance to remind me to eat more sabzi (greens) and meeveh (fruits).

"Mamani, it's so good to see you. I haven't seen you guys for at least six months. I missed you and Papa-joon at the grand opening of the boutique in DC, but I know you guys were busy renovating the flat in Monaco. Where is Papa by the way?" I asked even though I knew she was going to respond as she pleased - meaning she might fib on his behalf.

"Grandpa is out choosing tile for the villa." She said as she grabbed Rob's wrists and stared him up and down. She then gazed straight into his eyes, broke into a huge smile and said, "Velcome to Tehran finally, my son."

Mamani reached up from her five-foot frame to Rob's almost six-foot high neck. She wanted to put the gold chain she was holding in her hand on him. The chain had what seemed to be a Zoroastor symbol charm and a Star of David charm linked to it. Then she put her hand on his face. A sweet gesture that he seemed a bit uncomfortable with, since he was now blushing. Willingly, he grabbed and cradled her delicate hands in his and kissed them before she got the chance to pull away. This is so cute. He's so cute. Feeling the moment. Loving the moment.

"Merci Mamani." Rob said with a flirtatious smile as he was trying to show off one of the few Persian words he'd learned.

As he had hoped, she responded with a gleaming smile and said, "Oh, you esspeak Persian now, Robert?"

Rob at a loss for words, said, "Well, not exactly Mamani. I plan to uh..."

Mamani put her graceful yet heavily-tanned pointer finger, with her signature orange nail-polish, on Rob's chunky lips and said "Shh. It is ok darling. I vill teaching you Farsi vile you are staying here. Now, go and get changed. You're going to an engagement party dis evening."

"Yes Ma'am. Sounds great Mamani-joon."

"Roya, show dem to der room in deh new ving." Mamani turned around and headed back down the hallway to the kitchen.

"Yes mamani. Come on you lovebirds, follow me. I will take you to your room." Roya said in a surprisingly normal voice. Then continued whispering almost surreptitiously, "... and afterwards to the secret room."

We followed her as she headed East, in the direction of the newly built wing of the penthouse. My whole family is always renovating, adding, or rebuilding a property somewhere. Maybe it's something in the genes.

"The secret room? What's the secret room?" Asked Rob.

"It's probably where she hides her stash." I said acerbically.

"Bloody Hell! Why do you have to be such a bloody bore Nazy?" Roya said using her extensive Oxford-boarding-school-acquired-colloquial English lexis.

"Are you serious Roya? I was just joking. Do you really do drugs? This is nuts, does your husband know?" I asked noticeably a bit confused.

"Well, Ario and I are no longer together" She said without even looking at me.

"Oh, I'm sorry honey, I didn't know. Nobody bothered to tell me. Not even Mamani." I said trying to seem as apologetic as I could.

"That's because nobody knows. Not even Mamani. So if you both could keep this between us three, then I would appreciate it very much. As for my drug habit, there is nothing else to do here but to hang out, get smashed, and party. Plus, it's cheaper than buying cigarettes so you can't really blame me too much. Look, it's not like I do hardcore drugs, I only smoke the pot. You know it's a plant, so it can't be bad." Roya said as if we had put her on trial for "the pot" and she had to win the jury's vote with her passionate explanation.

"It's alright, Roya. I like the pot too. I mean I tried it in college. It really is harmless." Rob said before he caught my look of 'what the fuck are you saying'.

"I mean, it's actually not good for you if you do it a lot. Like everything else in life. If you do it in excess, then it is bad." He said trying to redeem his view on pot-smoking for the average newbie-divorce trying to erase some memories.

"Yeah, bloody right you are. I totally keep it under control. It's completely moderate. Moderation is good. You're brilliant Rob, you are so spot on with everything." Roya said evidently having gained her confidence back.

I know she was self-assured again because she was sticking her chest out. At least as far as Dr. Julia Santos was concerned , the resident body language expert to 'Celebrity Life Weekly' magazine, she was confident. Dr. Santos was hired to demystify Jennifer Lopez's posture and body language towards Ben Affleck during the time of their anouncement to brake off their engagegement.

Seemingly, right after Ben broke off their engagement, Jennifer Lopez jumped into another relationship followed by marriage with Marc Anthony. Dr. Santos suggested that while J-Lo's heart was broken by Ben Affleck, her posture was hunched over and sloppy. However, as soon as she got a ring and marriage proposal from Marc Anthony, J-lo was feeling good and began walking with her back arched and chest out again. So according to Dr. Santos' theories this sort of body language was to be a sign of regained confidence, and I recognized it in Roya.

Am I ever going to be able to look at her the same way again? My favorite cousin from London is officially now, my pot-smoking-divorced-cousin. Her drama-filled life happenings do make for some interesting stories though, as she tells them. I guess the best thing for me to do is to just try and be understanding and just continue to improve on my own bad habits before I make Roya feel any worse about herself. That's probably the most positive approach I can take, because she does have a some influence on me. Ambitious of me, but possible.

"Ok Roya. We'll see you in an hour. Let's meet in the foyer, cool?" Rob said to Roya, as he faced the door right across from the "secret room" trying to figure out how to operate the sleek looking door knob.

"Push the button on your left, and I'll see you two in a bit. We're going to have so much fun at the engagement party guys. Ciao!" Roya said as she turned around and opened the door to her supposed "secret-room".

"Hey. Do you know whose engagement it is?" I asked Roya as I got her attention with my eyes right before she was about to close her door.

"Yes, I do. It's little Kaveh's engagement soirée. You know, Uncle Nader's youngest boy." Roya replied now standing in the doorway.

"Oh, my gosh. I can't believe he's getting married, it seems like it was just yesterday when we used to dress him up in girl clothes and put make up on him for fun." I said.

"Yeah, I can't believe it either that's why I'm going to indulge in some herbal therapy to be able take in all the change that's going on in my life. You know, coming to terms with age, little Kaveh's engagement," she paused, "and my husband leaving me for someone fifteen years younger. What color are you going to wear? I'm wearing black, so make sure to wear another color." Roya said in one breath as she let her bedroom door close behind her.

Rob and I looked at each other in astonishment. Then Rob reached over and put his hand under my chin and pushed my jaw upward to close.

"Take a left at the next exit. We need to get off at Jordan Street." Roya said to the driver of our stretch black Mercedes 600 with tint so dark we could barely make out the streets and people from inside the car. We wore our manteaus and headscarves in tandem with the tint and car interior. We were "black on black" in its truest aesthetic for a night on the town in Tehran.

"Yes, Madame of course we will." Replied the driver, as he prepared to get in the left lane of the expressway we appeared to be on. This took a lot of skill, considering that most traffic signs, signals, and lights are for decoration in Tehran. It works out rather well when you're hastened but, not so much when you're just cruising, or when you're a pedestrian. That's when it becomes really hard to cross the road at intersections >>> Part 4
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