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We start this story in a similar fashion with OkCupid being the matchmaker. I matched this beautiful Kurdish/Armenian girl around a month earlier than all the other Turkish matches. On the topic of Turkey, we save the best of the four dates for last and this date does connect with 195: The Turkish Little Mama, in fact it's impossible to tell this story without talking about her and vice versa.
To continue, from OkCupid the Kurdish Little Mama and I exchanged Instagrams and from there we didn't really talk much. But a week later I reached out to her on a depressing day and we had a very nice phone call, over an hour long. I felt very invigorated and inspired by her acceptance of my dark reality and her voice was refreshing. All my doubts that day were washed away by her human connection and since then an endearing bond formed. I'd give her virtual tours of Miami and artistic sites near my home and in a few miles radius and her showing me Istanbul and the Besiktas area. Sexting and deep calls and voice messages. Her perfect breasts, the color of her nipples, the sight of her vagina and her fetishes revealed, all burned into my irises, that alone would turn on most men. From there I was re-inspired to continue my pursuit to travel to Istanbul. My desire to travel there had diminished since the cold February that I used the temperature as an excuse to delay my travel and let the Original Turkish Little Mama’s hopes down. That’s old news though I lacked solo travel experience and other things had to come into place first, like Mexico.
To continue, we began to inquire about more than what we can physically see beyond just our eyes and ears. I wanted to appeal to all five senses, touch, taste, smell, sound and sight. So I asked about her favorite fragrance and she asked mine. She told me she wore Pure Hypnotic, Poison Pink, so I went on Ebay and ordered a seven dollar sample of the bottle. It arrived in the mail maybe ten days later and It was a sweet smell. I told her that I had no use for the sample and that I'd give it to her in person.
After a while, there was a period of silence and I went on a date with the infamous South African Little Mama, Date 194. The days leading up to my trip were coming, and after the failure with the South African Little Mama , I just saw things as a sign to keep true to my ambition. The Kurdish Little Mama gave me a video call via Instagram and with her help we went over my entire itinerary. She corrected some things for me and made better recommendations. She even opened her home to me and gave me her address.
Just a week leading up to my arrival in Turkey, I tried to reach out to the Kurdish Little Mama and she shut me down with a demeaning response. It was only last week she was on video call helping me plan my trip. She did tell me she'd be on vacation for the first week of my trip but I never thought that I couldn't ever contact someone while they were on vacation. Especially since I knew she'd be offended if I told her that upon my arrival. I left the message with a unreplied and relayed the response to the Turkish Little Mama. She said that she was being a bitch , her nickname for the Kurdish Little Mama was "the red haired girl" and so the name: The Red Haired Kurdish Little Mama (from here, I’ll refer to her as the Red Hair Little Mama).
At the same time leading up to that trip the Turkish Little Mama, who would later become Date 195, casted her evil seeds of doubt into my head. Saying that her ex date seemed to have been following the Kurdish Little Mama all of a sudden and maybe her vacation was just really those two hooking up. Yeah, because what are the odds of that happening? Yet like a fool I took the bait and confronted the Red Hair Little Mama. I questioned her word choice of "I'm on vacation, leave me alone" and said I didn't like the way that came off, that she could have said that same thing a hundred different ways. She retorted aggressively with "Don't tell me how to speak English." I tried sending voice messages but she refused to listen to them. And before long it became a text shouting match of low blows and insults. "Fuck you"
"Screw you"
"You're pathetic."
"You're acting like a bitch!"
She went as far to say things like:
"That's why you can't get a girlfriend, no one wants to commit"
I went as far to say things like:
"That's why your supposed marriage failed."
After that she went on an even longer tangent, spamming my inbox to the point where I just blocked her and that was the end of that. I'd later relay this argument to the Turkish Little Mama, I guess trying to see two girls wasn't realistic anyway. I was just only talking to a few Turkish girls but I only really wanted to date her. So after that my focused changed to the Turkish girl, but days leading up to the trip, the Turkish girl did something so brazenly dumb that I'd have to block her too.
Departure
It was time to depart, by this point had already blocked the Turkish girl for playing me and the Kurdish girl. The two people who helped me plan this trip and provided key details like the HES code application, and bringing outlet converters were out of the picture. I didn't need a girl who fucks a guy right before your supposed date and I didn't want a girl who turns into a bad mouthed beast when you talk about things said to offend you. Turkey was already full of drama and I didn't even arrive yet. I got on that airplane anyway, determined to have a good time and relax too.
Let's fast forward to September 1st, there are only 5 days remaining on my trip. I found myself extremely bored, everyone I met and bonded with over the past week had already left the city and the girls I dated were all unavailable for all different reasons. I found myself walking to the travel agency and asking for an immediate ticket back to Miami. I knew there were daily flights from Miami to Istanbul. But I decided not to leave due to the cost of the flight change. In my search for excitement I unblocked the Red Hair Kurdish Little Mama on Instagram and told her I was here and if she wanted to meet. Then I blocked her again, It didn't feel right. But then she sent me a message on Whatsapp and expressed her interest to see me, so she called me and we talked things out a bit. So we planned to meet the next day and all that day I was mentally preparing myself. At one point that day I was trying to wet shave which I never do due to irritation and havent done in years and I ended up cutting myself on the cheek. It was a real noticeable cut that had me looking like Zoro. The cut was light pink but by the next day was completely black due to scabbing. So now I had an extremely important date with the woman who set me on the path to being in Istanbul whom I cared deeply for and I wasn't even at max beauty. I suppose the crack on my face put a crack in my confidence but I was ever so determined to see her so it didn't bother me much.
The next day I woke up and confirmed the meet details with the Red Hair Little Mama, she sent me the location to this building that was supposed to be our meet spot. I think she underestimated just how fast I could have gotten there because by the time I arrived and called her to confirm her location, she told me she hadn't even gotten ready. So I responded by telling her I haven’t had lunch and I'll find a place nearby to eat and she said she’d be on her way. I got a chicken salad and a beer at a restaurant across the street from the location she sent me. I stretched out that meal for as long as possible, it was nearly an hour and I started to think that maybe she was trolling me to get back at me for that initial argument. She had shared her location with me on Whatsapp after I inquired about her location again. After about five minutes I could actually see her ping making its way to me.
Take a deep breath, Sam. Use your orphan breathing. Here she comes!
And like that a red blur came trodding through the door, there she was with red hair in a red dress wearing red lipstick with a purse clutched to her side. We greeted each other and I offered to get her a drink and she went with a kind of iced tea, she seemed flustered as if getting to me put a toll on her. We started to talk and I noticed she had red lipstick on her teeth, I told her and she wiped it off and then she responded by saying I had something on my face to which I jokingly responded "Well, this doesn't come off, I cut myself earlier." She asked if we could move to the outdoor seating so she can smoke, as most Turkish do in the city. I called over the waiter and let her know of the move, so we spoke and she quickly mentioned my animated body movements saying things like:
"You move so much, can you stay still for a second?"
"Nah, but I can try."
And I tried and barely lasted thirty seconds. I'm just too hyperactive, sitting dates are literal torture for me. I then told her that I had a gift for her and I pulled out the sample of perfume I ordered from when I was back in Miami. I guess I packed it on the chance that we may have met.
"I told you I'd give it to you in person." I said with a smirk on my face.
It was then we were interrupted by a Turkish street seller who insisted on selling me black market cologne. Here I am trying to get to know my date on a different level and we're interrupted by a guy who won't take no for an answer, telling me his whole backstory. So I bought a bottle from him, to the American dollar. It wasn't much but not even 10 minutes later another street seller comes and tries to do the same, this guy is even more aggressive. I open my bag up to show him I already bought some and don't need anymore. At this point me and the Red Hair Little Mama are telling the guy we don't need anything. Since my arrival to Istanbul, sellers and stares have been drawn to me like a moth to a flame. The locals of the city can just tell from the way I look, dress or even walk that I am not from here. But the Red Hair Little Mama and I get a good laugh out of the situation. I close out the tab and she asks me where I've been and where I want to go. And then we get up and head for the tram, she plans to take me on an adventure and here is where the magic of the date begins.
Turkish Hospitality
She intended to take me to Galata Tower, as we make our way there we head through a passage of an underground tunnel that houses a train with one single stop. I tell her of my journey so far and make comparisons of the city to Miami. I can see she is still cautious around me because of the previous fallout, any romantic gesture made by me is met with her signature "tamam", her placing her hand over a chest saying the equivalent of "I'm good or no, thank you." In a generous way. The first phase of this date was to clear the air. So every once and a while we'd address the elephant in the room. I pulled out a fresh pack of 5 Gum from my pocket, any item that was unsold in Turkey but exclusive to my person was a talking point. I advertised it as the tastiest and most long lasting gum of our country so naturally I gave some to her. On our way to the uphill slope leading to the tower we were stopped by a curious cop in his squad car who only spoke Turkish, he spoke directly to the Red Hair Little Mama about me, with her as a mediator. His first questions were how were we even talking to each other to begin with. We were speaking English, obviously. The cop then wanted to know where I was from, he asked if I was from Syria? To which I answered "no" then China, and then some other country I forgot the name of, to which I was already annoyed. He then asked to see my passport and I stated I was American, bald eagles, freedom and guns, the whole shebang. The cop inspected my passport for what felt like five minutes and he let us go. It was then the Kurdish Little Mama scurried us off and we approached the Galata Tower. It was a neck-breaking monument. It was there she told some history of the tower and dared us to climb it. That there was a myth surrounding the tower, two in particular. That couples find true love at the tower and that centuries ago a man jumped off the tower with a pair of gliders and cruised around the whole city of Istanbul. I pulled out my polaroid and figured it'd make a nice shot. She offered to take pictures of me, but I insisted that she take pictures with me. So I asked a nearby man if he could take some photos of us and he did, some on our phones and some on the polaroid. But the polaroid shots never developed, the damn camera was on its last legs. It wasn't our best photos but it sure was special nonetheless, it would be something to look back on time and time again in the future. The Red Hair Little Mama brought me next door to a building adjacent to Galata tower, which housed a few bars and restaurants. The building had a breathtaking interior, we must have gone to the third or fourth floor, and we had dinner right next to the tower on the open terrace in a restaurant called Firuzende.
We ordered a platter of cheeses, breads, some finger foods and multiple glasses of red wine. So then we had one of the first deeper talks to which I can recall the conversation vividly. She asked me how many dates I've been on so far, to which I responded "a few". I told her to relax and that I felt she was still holding something against me. She brought up what I said about her failed relationship, mentioning if it was funny that she left a relationship where she was being physically abused. My smile turned solemn and I responded I guess not. To cure the mood, I offered to her that we should go dancing tonight wearing our finest clothes. The restaurant was playing music and I stood up and offered my hand. In broad daylight with the hot Turkish sun beating down on us from above on a clear sky. She passed on my offer, but we took some more photos and videos, more intimate ones. And of course they all came out goofy, I was wearing black on the hottest day and we were both working up a sweat but it was fine, it was definitely as hot as Miami that late early September. It was then the Red Hair Little Mama went to go to the restroom, so I figured I'd pay the bill before she got back and finally have the chance to pay for a date for once. But lo and behold as I turned around to look at the bathrooms, there she was paying! She beat me to it and I didn't even let my intention be known. Granted I guess this a good time to say that out of all the Turkish dates and girls I met, this girl was by far among the wealthiest. She lived in her own apartment and not with family , unlike most Turkish youth. And she went by an alias to hide her identity because her father was some sort of Turkish politician or worked in the government, though her father was estranged from her, her sister and mother.
After she returned from the bathroom, she asked if I wanted more wine and I agreed of course. Turkish drinks were just too weak for me and it went through me like grape juice but a little buzz beats no buzz at all. She seemed to get a real proud high from teaching me Turkish phrases and then having me repeat it. It made her laugh and it wasn't the first time either. Perhaps I sounded funny or had a strange accent, Turkish words are really hard to pronounce for the American tongue. So, she closed my wine tab and we got up to overlook the city from the terrace and I thought she'd want to go home, we'd already spent a few hours together and she mentioned just earlier that she had an obligation with her sister later that night. But she insisted we continue and our next destination was Kadikoy. We made our way to the seaport to get on the ferry from the European to the Asian side. The first time we boarded the sea ferry, we were outside the boat enjoying the seabreeze with some distance to us, though she was smoking of course. But this time we took our seat aboard the boat and this time we sat indoors in close proximity. We looked around and there were couples all around us, embracing each other, snug and all. I told the Red Hair Little Mama that if she's tired that she shouldn't resist and she could rest her head on me if she wanted to. And so she did and she enjoyed the scent of my Nautica Voyage cologne. I felt like a lot of progress was being made and there was still a world of adventure in store.
We arrived at the seaport and instantly we were surrounded by hundreds of armed soldiers to our right and to our left a ton of protestors holding signs I couldn't read. The Red Hair Little Mama called them "Communists" and that they were not like the Communists that we Americans were used to. She said not to make eye contact as we had to walk right between both parties, especially the Turkish police who always seemed to walk around with assault rifles drawn and in hand. She grabbed my arm and tucked her arm underneath mine as if we were a couple. Quick thinking on her part, they'd be less likely to shoot down a couple. I commended her quick thinking but we weren't out of the woods yet. The restaurant we were approaching still had a ton of police officers on standby. So she suggested a new spot and we walked further down the path. We entered this two story restaurant with pretty generic bleak bland walls, we took a seat on the second floor, facing each other. So I suppose we were eating again but this time an actual meal, not finger food or drinks. So the server asked us what we'd like to drink and If I haven’t mentioned this before I will now but Turkey has little drink variety. I'm sure there's only four sodas to choose from no matter where you go: Fanta, Sprite, Coke and something else. There's like two beer selections and like six or seven fruits, there aren't a variety of tropical fruit but I digress. I went with a Coke and the Red Hair Little Mama wanted me to try this food that resembled brown sausages and when I ate it, tasted just like sausage! She was appalled, maybe she didn't know what sausages were but I said it tasted good and thanked her. At some point in the conversation I handed her my American Passport, she wanted to see my ID photo and I guess held something that's pretty rare and sought after. So our meal came to a conclusion and the waiter came with his payment scanner. I raised my card up and she raised hers. I told her that I got this meal, since she got the last one. But the waiter looked at both of us and said took her card and he said to me:
"You are the guest!" with a smile and swiped her card.
The Red Hair Little Mama smiled as if she won an argument or something and I conceded, there isn't a girl in Turkey who would let me pay for my own meal. Maybe a first date dowry or something. I was impressed. It was such a stark contrast to the princess syndrome back in Miami of women who expect things to be paid and done for them.
I guess I'll circle back to the fact of Turkish hospitality, the girls there really don't like you paying for them. They really pay their own way. Even if they have no money in their accounts or if you had significantly more in comparison. Date 196 didn't let me pay for a thing and Date 197 still bought me things despite having little to no money, same for 195. The French Little Mama swore I was an exception because those girls liked me, but it was true. I couldn't even lift my credit card in protest, they'd shove it away. This has happened multiple times, just like in Mexico the women there barely knew me and would buy me treats and food. Stepping away from America's toxic dating standards, the two solo trips to Cancun and Istanbul gave me perspective. That in both of these cities I could have easily obtained a girlfriend and in a week at that, Date 195's exact words but I digress.
To continue, the Red Hair Little Mama and I finished our meal and we exited the establishment, she lit up another cigarette. Though most people here couldn't go an hour or more without a smoke, she was heavily addicted. But luckily it was cheap 100 Lira weak cigarettes and not some American Marlboro or that free healthcare would be a national crisis in a heartbeat.
To continue, the Red Hair Little Mama and I finished our meal and we exited the establishment, she lit up another cigarette. Though most people here couldn't go an hour or more without a smoke, she was heavily addicted. But luckily it was cheap 100 Lira weak cigarettes and not some American Marlboro or that free healthcare would be a national crisis in a heartbeat.
It was getting dark and we made our way to the tram station passing by a bridge of fishermen and the strong stench of fish. There we were stopped by some guys shooting a video, I think a music video or something and they wanted me to say or do something. I guess I stood out to them and having a Black American in your video must be street credible. So I took out my hair pick and did a little Harlem Shake and said a quick one liner and that was it. Those guys were ecstatic and the Red Hair little Mama recorded me in a joyous mood.
It was truly random but this was not just a date but an experience where anything was possible and anything could happen. Our mere presence was attracting all sorts of characters.
We came to a stop right across the tram station of our final destination. She smoked some more and I caressed her arm and ran my hand along her hair and chin, telling her that we have to go out at night and do something fun. She agrees but she was anti-intimacy on the first date. Of course I already knew that, this date was all about reestablishing the connection and forgiveness. We crossed to the tram station together and I bought some passes and we hugged goodbye and we both boarded different trams headed in the opposite direction. I got to my hotel just as it got dark and I sat in my room overlooking the goofy photos and got some messages from her sending me even more, with the rap video too.
After that day. I decided she could use a break from me, I planned to see her the following day. So I spent the day touring the Topkaki Palace. However, when the next day came she said she couldn't hang out and she was doing schoolwork and that she'd try her best to see me that following day, which would be September 4th, just a day and some before I had to leave. So leaving everything to the last moment.
There was only a day and a half left and I didn't want a sexless vacation, not only that but the Red Hair Girl didn't seem she was going to make it on time and she had her own worries to deal with. So on the day before my last day I reached out to Date 195: The Turkish Little Mama and that's where these stories intersect. The Turkish girl quickly made her way to my hotel room after having some regrets. After laying in bed and spending time with the Turkish girl, I got some Whatsapp messages from The Red Hair Little Mama. The Turkish girl knew we were talking and she boldly exclaimed "She can't have you, you're mine now." The Red Hair Little Mama left chilling cryptic messages like:
"my mother is missing, we can't find her"
I followed up and asked her if she wanted me to come over, but she said she would handle it. Little did I know about the gravity of the full situation. I had her address, I could have just appeared at her door and taken her up on her open door policy, her past dates did the same.
In the end she did reach out to me about wanting to spend time with me that last day but never made an actual plan. Our love story never fully blossomed. And I spent the last day with the wrong girl, who gave chlamydia as a parting gift. Even so I left Istanbul and boarded my afternoon flight to Miami. It would be an 11 hour non stop flight and I'd be traveling 7 hours back in time so I'd be arriving around the same day essentially. I put my phone on airplane mode and weathered the flight. Upon landing, I turned my phone on and all my notifications hit my phone at once, but one chilling one stood out the most and it was from the Red Haired Little Mama:
"My mother suicided, the police found her this morning..."
"WHAT!" I thought to myself.
"She took 40+ pills, the doctor found..."
It was the absolute worst case scenario and far from the hopeful outcome.
I was bewildered and in disbelief. I felt a similar sense of dread, the Red Hair Little Mama now more like me in the worst possible way. That darkness will overtake her and she'd be lost to me. I didn't respond right away. I wanted to wait until I was back home from the airport and settled. I almost felt guilty that I didn't try harder to intrude on the situation when I was in Istanbul, I almost felt like getting right back on the plane at that very airport. Thinking to myself that I didn't stay long enough or that this would happen right as I left. A sweeping curse that befell each of the four dates I had in Turkey. That maybe they were better off not meeting me, ultimately.
When I got home, I sent her a heart warming voice message and offered financial support but she denied it. In the coming days to weeks, she posted on social media as if nothing happened, it was strange. She showed more concern to me falling off my motorcycle than her own situation. Soon after, every time I tried to reach out, I was left unreplied, pure radio silence. I don't know why I even took offense to that when I did the same during my dark time. Either way, I decided to block her which was a foolish mistake. And months passed and I wisened up to realize I became the very beast I swore to despise. I unblocked her and tried to talk to her, asking her to "lean on me." I was rewarded with being blocked. I suppose it was a just response. There were so many things that could have gone differently to create the strongest love and the deepest bond but it seems human vices and other wordly forces just kept standing in our way. With that, this story comes to a close. Back to the U.S. we go as we prepare for Date 199: The Brazilian Little Mama.
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