Late arrival in Isfahan

Late evening arrival in Isfahan (three hours later than initial ETA). Too late for food in the hotel restaurant. Brightly lit fast food pizza restaurant – blaring Iranian pop music competing with blaring Iranian TV. Three girls, two children enter and seat themselves across from my table. Blatant flirting. One with a bright blue chador makes a gesture, offering me to have some of her sandwich. The usual fiddling-dropping-rearranging-chador-exercise. The rest of our Iranian company arrives. Giggling among the girls. As they get up to leave, Nielsen calls out ‘excuse me!’ and hands them his card. Sauntering back to hotel separately. A car parked in the dark, empty street across from the entrance, motor running. The police? Halfway through the revolving doors -- whistles, honking from the car – I turn to see Nielsen laughing in the back seat. The girls waves and signals me to come over.