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“Mrs. Mehran could not have freckles.”

Having been delayed on the Eurostar (because protestors were on the tracks? Who does that?) for over 2.5 hours, I was thrilled to arrive in London and even more excited to get to the hotel.  Upon exiting the train, I was very happy to find a driver with my name on his card D MANAGEMENT (my Italian agency) “MRS. MEHRAN” (my married name since Sept. ’10) awaiting my arrival.  Sometimes, especially with a delayed train things like this can become confusing and often lead to numerous phone calls and train station searches to find the correct driver.  Being tired, I was understandable happy to not have to start a search.  At least until I had to convince my driver that I am in fact, Mrs. Mehran.

No freckles? News to me.

ME TO DRIVER: Hello sir, I’m Mrs. Mehran, is the car very far?

DRIVER: Excuse me Mam that is impossible.

ME: No, I’m sorry you’re incorrect sir.  I am Mrs. Mehran from D Management.

DRIVER: I’m sorry Mam but, Mehran is an Iranian name. Iranian’s do not have freckles, Mrs. Mehran could not have freckles.

ME: HUH?  Sir, I can show you my passport, I am in fact Mrs. Mehran

Back story:

I am known for getting irritated in these situations and on occasion like to start arguments which more often than not, lead me to nowhere.  This irritates Alex and he has me working on “buttering them up” rather than “freaking out like an insane woman”.    One specific time Alex and I were trying to leave the Syracuse Airport and I happened to have one of my favorite bags, a Louis Vuitton patent leather red shoulder bag.  Long story short, after being told I “must plane check the bag” (which – come on, it could have gotten scratched and was not too big to fit in the overhead) I argue to the point of being asked not to get on the plane (I’ll leave out the details).  In the end (sorry Alex) we made it on the plane and my bag was checked, unscathed by  some miracle.  Again, I’m working on “buttering” and not “freaking”, despite being Mrs. Mehran, having freckles, and being exhausted.

DRIVER:  I’m sorry Mam, there are taxi’s outside, I cannot take the wrong passenger, I will get in trouble

ME: (trying not to freak out) Sir, Mehran is my married name, my husband’s last name.  My maiden name is McGowan (my middle name and mom’s maiden name, it sounded more likely to work with him).  McGowan’s can have freckles.

DRIVER: Mam, pardon me but, Iranian’s would marry another Iranian.

ME:  My husband isn’t really Iranian, well he is but – he’s American (about to take a taxi).
Sir, here is my passport, train ticket and driver’s license all with my married name.  My luggage even has Mehran on the tags.

At the end of the day and about 20 minutes of convincing (not yelling) later, I was given a ride safely to my hotel.  If I was thinking I would have taken a taxi.

I’m happily in London now, awaiting the much-anticipated royal wedding tomorrow! It’s a very exciting time and I am dying to see the happy couple and most importantly, the dress!

I hope you’ll all be watching tomorrow!

Mrs. Mehran, freckles and all

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