MELATI from Indonesia &
ISMAIL from Turkey
Many years ago the idea of pen friends was born. The idea was to
create a way by which friendly contacts could be initiated between
people worldwide. Photos and profiles of those seeking friendship were
published in magazines. Those seeking friends (pen friends or pen pals),
could contact people of their choice by writing. If the recipient
replies, communications starts between both pen friends. This idea is
still in practice today. In the new internet era, the technology has
expanded the possibilities of making new contacts and establishing
friendships. There several websites offering contact/dating services and
the first contact could be made in minutes per email. Sarahmagazine met
two gorgeous ladies in Stuttgart, Germany who became friends through the
internet. The ladies are Melati from Indonesia and Ismail from Turkey.
Melati gives a short summary of how she met Ismail and life in Germany.
(left) and Ismail (right)
(click the picture)
My name is Melati and I am from Jakarta, Indonesia. I met Ismail through
the internet. I had my profile on the internet on a website for people
seeking friends. I was browsing through the page when I saw the picture
and read the profile of Ismail. Her profile read almost like mine. I was
inquisitive and wanted to meet her. I contacted her. She replied and we
developed a mail friendship. We realized that we have a lot in common
and could be good friends. We made an appointment to meet. We met in
Stuttgart, Germany and have been friends since then; since 2 years.
Life in Germany is okay but I do not like it so much. Germany is too
cold for me and the typical German cuisine is not my favourite. The
services offered and attitude towards customers are not at all the best.
However there are also good and positive aspects of life in Germany. For
example, the streets are very clean, everything seems to be perfectly
organized and there is order everywhere.
Ismail and I work
part-time as models. We are fond of each other and share the same
lifestyle. We are best friends today and hopefully, we remain best
friends for long if not forever.
End. Sarahmagazine 2006
through the Internet
I've tried dating on the internet for several years, with mixed
results... I met the two loves of my life on here a few years back, and
met a few real psychos in the process, too, so I can't really say if I
recommend using this as a meeting tool or not. I thought you might be
interested in the story of my worst meeting ever on the net.
About four years ago, I was travelling a lot for work. I found myself
home alone in my rental apartment a few nights a week, and with nothing
better to do I started chatting with people on ICQ. One woman I met
seemed really interesting... same taste in music, well read, funny,
flirtatious, and based on the photo she sent me, reasonably attractive.
When she invited me to come visit her out in Baltimore over Labor Day
weekend, I figured why not? I told her I was just coming out of a bad
breakup (which was true) and I was only coming out as a friend (which
was only semi-true), and that she could meet me at the airport Friday
This was pre 9/11, so she should have been able to meet me at the gate,
but when I got outside I didn't see any smiling faces. Since it was
Labor Day, the airport was packed and very loud, so I couldn't hear any
of the announcements (you know, "Please meet your party at the baggage
claim"). I waited about 20 minutes, and then went and had HER paged.
By now, I was thinking I was being stood up, and obviously that put me
in a pretty surly mood. I had her paged one more time, and went and
stood in a relatively quiet area to think about what the hell I was
going to do. As I stood there, I noticed something moving towards me. It
was large... very large... so I was pretty sure this was not who I was
waiting for. However, as it got closer, I realized that "it" was in fact
a "she", and if I squinted reeeeeeeeally hard, I could sort of make out
the features I had seen in the photos she sent me. Photos, it turned
out, which were well over 10 years old.
The woman in the pictures was cute... short hair, nice eyes, nice smile.
The woman who stood in front of me was easily 150 pounds heavier than
the one I had seen. The hair was no longer short... it was now long and
greasy, with a poodle puff in front and a stringy mullet in back. The
NASCAR racing jacket, her best attempt at wearing something stylish. I
put on a brave face and gave her a quick hug. Nothing to worry about,
since I was here just as a "friend", right? God, was I glad I had added
that caveat before I came out! We waddled out to her car and headed
towards what I THOUGHT was Baltimore...
It turned out she lived in a "suburb", if you consider a small town over
an hour outside of town in a completely different state a "suburb". My
thoughts of us at least going downtown to hang out were shot, so I asked
her what her plans were for the weekend. "Oh", she said, "I thought we'd
just rent some movies." It was now 6:00 on Friday. My flight didn't
leave until 6:00 the following Monday. Things were looking bleak.
in to her house, a shoddy little ranch in the middle of a white trash
neighborhood. Old washers and dryers were piled up in the back yard.
When I asked her about it, she just laughed and said, "Oh, those are
nothing to worry about". I still worried. I worried even more when I
opened the door and was hit with a wave of nauseating odor. I'm not a
neat freak, not by any means, but to me, cleaning your house does not
mean, "Open a Glade Plug-in and relax". She had plugged in six... count
'em, six... coconut Plug-Ins in the living room ALONE. Underneath that
overpowering odor was something darker, and more sinister. I couldn't
figure out what it was, but I knew it wasn't good.
After the stench, the next thing that struck me was the decorating of
the house. Those of you who have dotty old great aunts still alive will
probably recognize it. Picture faux wood panelling... shag carpet... and
wedding pictures on the wall. Not of your friends or siblings, mind
you... Wedding pictures of your parents and grand parents, all in that
lovely, faded yellow with a tinge of blue and pink that all photos taken
in the sixties and seventies seem to have. These photos were EVERYwhere.
As freaky as the photos were, I thought the little figurines, tucked in
amid the mini ceramic castles, and the occasional wooden
soldier/nutcracker, were even worse. Many of them were cracked. All
stared at me with this glazed, pleading look, as if they realized they
were in hell. At least one was missing it's eyes. I was now getting
I don't know if it was the drinks on the plane
or just fear, but I was suddenly overcome with an urgent need to pee. I
asked where the bathroom was and rushed in. As I shut the door, I felt a
crunching under my feet. Scatterd about the bathroom was kitty litter.
Not just a few crumbs, mind you... it was almost like walking on a
grainy beach. Beyond the gross out factor, this was significant because
I had told her before I came out that I was deathly allergic to cats,
and she just said, "Oh, that's a shame." No mention of the fact that she
HAD a cat, mind you, just that it was a shame I was allergic to them.
Thankfully, I had some allergy medicine with me, so I prepared to gulp
down a couple as a preventative measure.
That was when I noticed the state of the tiles. About one third of the
tiles were missing. Gaping holes were in the walls where the tiles once
stood. I turned to look into the bath tub, and saw that it was in much
the same state, but with a lovely sheen of black mold coating just about
everything to make the scene complete. I looked down at the toilet seat,
noticed a similar coat of grime, and a large, jagged edged crack in the
middle. I was going to have to be careful when it came time to sit
After relieving myself, I went back out to the living room to see where
I was going to sleep. It suddenly hit me why the room seemed so strange.
There was a small TV at one end, a fireplace on the other, but
absolutely nothing in between. No couch, no chair, nada. My stomach sank
lower as I knew what this meant... she expected me to sleep in her
bedroom with her.
She took me in to the bedroom so I could put my stuff there, and that's
when the worst shock of all hit. No, it wasn't the water bed, or the
continuation of the wedding picture/figurine decor. No, it was the fact
that the cat was lying in the middle of the floor, suckling her
kittens... and that the afterbirth was still there, too. I damn near
threw up at that point. Chuckling, she said, "Oh shoot, I meant to take
care of that." She grabbed a towel, wiped up the mess, and THREW THE
TOWEL DIRECTLY INTO HER CLOTHES HAMPER. No rinsing, no washing,
nothing... just straight in on top of her OTHER clothes. I was ready to
leave right then.
Thankfully, we went out to get something to eat, and I was able to stop
shaking. After dinner, we watched a movie, and around 11:00 I was ready
to go to bed. Dreading what this meant, I crawled onto the king sized
waterbed. I was in shorts and a t-shirt... no way was I going to give
her any ideas... when she came back into the room wearing nothing but an
old, worn, white t-shirt that didn't hide much at all. As she lowered
herself onto the bed, I felt myself being tilted towards her, much like
a star being drawn into a black hole. I rolled over onto my side, as far
from her as possible, and said good night. Within minutes, she began
snoring so loudly that it almost drowned out the train noises from down
the street. After an hour of laying there staring at the ceiling, I got
up, took a dining room chair into the living room, and sat down to watch
the video again.
At about 4:00 in the morning, I decided that I couldn't make it another
day and a half in this hell hole. I called the airline, and asked if
there was any way I could transfer my ticket so I could leave that day
(Saturday) instead of Monday. The $150.00 transfer fee they required
seemed like a bargain compared to what I was facing, and I asked for a
new ticket. I didn't want to seem like I was fleeing, so I told them to
put me on the second flight out of BWI, leaving around 2:00. When the
woman woke up, I was sniffling (allergies) and I told her that I had to
leave... I didn't know she had cats, and my allergies were really
starting to act up. Not to worry, though, as I had asked for a later
flight so we could spend some time together. She just glared at me, spun
around, and went to get dressed.
We left the house at about 10:00 that morning, and I asked her if she
wanted to stop and get lunch on the way, my treat of course. She mumbled
"OK". I asked her what she was in the mood for, and she spit out the
words, "A salad." "No problem, where's a good salad place?", I asked.
She didn't say anything and kept driving.
After about 45 minutes, she pulled in to an Arby's. "Can you get salads
here??", I asked, honestly puzzled (I really was trying to be nice to
her at this point). Suddenly she turned on me and started screaming,
"You fucking asshole! You come out here and lead me on and won't fuck me
and now you're leaving early? Fuck you, you asshole bastard!". Or
something to that effect, at least. That was the opening I needed to let
her know what I thought of her. I gently reminded her that I was not the
one who 1) sent a 10 year old picture, 2) lied about where I lived, 3)
ignored the fact that I had a health issue with her cats, and 4) lived
like a fucking slob. OK, maybe I wasn't so gentle about it. We screeched
out of the Arby's parking lot and made it to BWI in about 20 minutes,
without saying a word to each other for the rest of the trip. As she
dropped me off at the curb, she had one last shot for me. "You're a
fucking fag", she said. I just smiled and replied, "Fuck off, you skanky
You might think an experience like this has scared me off internet
dating entirely. Actually, it hasn't. I'm a lot more careful about it
now than I was back then, but I really have met some incredible people
on the 'net and in a time when it's getting harder and harder to meet
people, it's not a terrible way to go. All I'll tell you is be very
suspicious, question EVERYthing, and don't go off to someone's house
until you're damn sure who he/she is!