When I was a wee lad my father, mother and I were in Karachi for 5 months. One Saturday, my Dad, who worked for the SNB at the time and had ongoing business in Pakistan, took us to the market close by where he worked and then we walked a few blocks to the rail station over in Serai Quarters. As we were waiting, a rather imposing Pakistani man came up beside me, smiled, and ruffled my hair. I didn't like that. Later on in the train I told my father what happened and I remember his reply-- "Don't worry, that's Amir and he follows us around from time to time to make sure we don't get sucker-punched."

Perhaps Amir, wherever he may be, can make good money if he comes to NYC and offers his services.