“I like most of the women, honestly.” Parisa makes a highly suggestive hand gesture. “Not like that,” he snaps. Then, evasively, “I should go. I need to wash my face.” “Take me with you,” she demands. He huffs and carries the phone into the bathroom. “You don’t have crushes on any of the women?” He props the phone behind the sink and turns on the water. “I didn’t come here for crushes. I came here to show the world I’m nice and normal so I can work again. Work is what matters.”
