The throb and pulse of the crowd was curious - a dynamic he was unfamiliar with. A pretty face he thought he remembered from... a movie perhaps? No. What would someone rich and famous be doing in a place such as this?<br/><br/><i>The beer was at least cold as he sipped it. Not great, but it was to be expected. There were certain things that this country did well but mass-produced beer was not one of them. Even the Belgians had managed that. </i><br/><br/>He didn't even try to cook up an excuse - a bold truth was always better than a half-hearted lie. "To see what kind of thing happens here, in a place such as this."<br/><br/>He continued to watch the exchange curiously, but not too obviously. His curiosity was piqued. He knew the lion-and-sun as a symbol of Iran, but not like that. Why Once it was quieter again, he leaned forward to try and speak to her.<br/><br/>"What is it that they sell here?" he listed a few street-names of drugs he was familiar with from Paris - the words would sound utterly strange, alien and out of context. "It certainly isn't the beer"