We decided to have a high school get-together at the nearby amusement park. We all met at the Velenjak Gas Station on Chamran Highway near the amusement park. Our group consisted of myself, Alireza F., Mohammad, Rad, Amir, Amir’s cousin and Babak. I was wearing a blue tee shirt under a light tracksuit top. Babak arrived with a white and yellow shirt that definitely drew attention to itself. I remarked to him that he might get in trouble for it but he explained that he had worn the same shirt that morning to Mellat Park and nothing had happened. As we walked towards the amusement park, Rad told me about that day’s game between Argentina and the Soviet Union. 

“It was an incredible game. Maradona saved a shot with his arm on his own goal line and the ref didn’t call it. Something happened to the Argentine keeper and he had to be substituted out.”

I was familiar with Pumpido from the 1986 games and felt like this would be a big loss for the Argentines. “Was the replacement any good?” I asked.

“He is either a very good keeper or it just was his day. He pulled off some amazing saves.”

We finally got to the amusement park, each paid our 5-toman entrance fee and stepped through the gates. However, we were barely inside when we were stopped. A member of the amusement park’s staff pointed at Babak’s shirt and said, “You can’t come in with that shirt.” In an effort to resolve the situation, I took off my tracksuit top and handed it to Babak to wear. Before he could do so though the staff member turned to me and said, “You can’t come in with that shirt either. It’s short sleeved.”

I had been waiting for a moment like this for some time. I triumphantly reached into my wallet and began reading the guidelines for dress codes that I had placed in my wallet months before. I continued reading the article out loud with repeated interruptions by the staff member (which I ignored), telling me he didn’t care what the article said and that he was not letting us in regardless. As I continued reading Amir began taking his own button down shirt off to give to Babak, only for them to also object to his short-sleeved shirt underneath. I finally reached the end of the article and looked up at the visibly irritated staff member.

“Are you done?” he asked me. “Did you read everything you wanted to read me?”

“Yes,” I responded.

He signaled to a couple of his coworkers. “Take them all away and call a van to take them to the station.”

They escorted us all down to a holding cell and took our IDs. They tried to scare us by claiming that a van was being dispatched to the location to take us to the station and that after shaving our heads, our schools would be contacted and we would be expelled. None of us believed the threats but I was still baffled as to why what I believed to be solid proof of our acceptable dress code was so easily dismissed.

“It doesn’t matter what your article said,” Amir’s cousin explained as he disposed of a picture of a girl that he had in his wallet. “You can’t argue with them. It doesn’t work.”

After keeping us there for a while someone finally came for us. He read the name on each ID and said, “We’re gonna let you go but you have to leave the park.” We took our IDs and headed towards the exit but suddenly spotted Amir going towards the man. Mohammad, who was waking next to me, nudged me and said, “Run before he screws this all up.” But before we could act upon Mohammad’s suggestion, Amir reached the man and told him, “Ok now that you’ve kicked us out give each of us our 5 tomans back.” We were all rounded up again and sent back to the holding cell.

Many of the previous threats were repeated before we were finally told to step outside supposedly to get on their van. With no van in sight they kept us there as we tried to reason with them to let us go. Amir was the most vocal, causing us to cringe as he argued with them and buried us deeper. Hoping to smooth things out, Alireza tried to interject. “Look, if you allow me I can explain this whole misunderstanding.”

“You shut up,” the man barked back at him.

“But we didn’t do anything!” Amir shot back.

“What did you think you had to do for us to step in? Break dance?” The man smirked at what he thought was a witty remark. Perhaps to indicate some level of cooperation, Mohammad also smiled at the not so funny comment. “What are you laughing at?” the man yelled before smacking Mohammad.

A van pulled over resulting in heightened anxiety and mass pleading by us all. Sensing that the earlier threats were about to materialize, we all expressed remorse as best as we could as we knew once we were put on the van we would not be getting off until we got to the station. Our strategy seemed to work as they kept us huddled together outside while they discussed the situation. Finally someone came back holding my ID in his hand. “Whose is this?” he asked. I indicated it was mine and he handed it to me. “Get out of here now. Run, don’t even stop until you’re home.” 

Fearing another change of heart I grabbed my ID and began running, not stopping until I reached Parkway Intersection. Once I got home I called everyone and learned that after my release every few minutes they had released someone else from our group.