I would love to say that I charmed Hooman Majd into a meeting with my witty prose and delightful email banter, but the truth is potentially more awesome. Potentially. Hooman Majd doesn't turn down meeting requests. If time permits, he sees them all, and, myself excluded, he's yet to encounter a crazy. We met for coffee the morning after the insomniac blog post was written. The man is in high demand (I had calls from a casting director friend the moment I posted his photo – she'd love him for a campaign she's working on), yet I was the one running late. Only four minutes, but by the time I arrived he was already in his seat, drinking his coffee, looking fresh in an orange cashmere sweater under a blackwatch check Woolrich blazer given to him by Glenn O'Brien. We discussed Iranian politics, the revolution, Argo, that one time he stopped in Auckland (he noticed a lot of wool), and the perils of life as a freelance journalist. In summation, he was the man. Here's to many more meetings in the years to come. (Photo evidence from my Instagram, above.)
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