The next time you’re thinking of taking a trip, I invite you to fly into Eli Manning Airport.

You may be thinking, “Wait, there’s no airport named after Eli.”  You would be right.  But tell that to my fake Russian ex-girlfriend.

Last year I got intentionally catfished by someone on a dating site who claimed to be a girl in Russia. “Olga” never asked me for money, frequently got angry if I didn’t respond quickly, and the whole thing fizzled out after a month.

Well, I did it again.  This time for a little over three months, during which the new girl, Anastasiya, sent me a solid 60 emails. She started slow, telling me that she did not want to rush into anything and that she “very much want to meet the true love.”

Anastasiya told me that men in Russia are not interesting in settling down and taking care of a girlfriend.

“They like more to have a good time, live fast,” she said.

On day nine, she told me a story about her boyfriend of 18 months cheating on her with her roommate.  Right in front of her.   Then she apologized for telling such an unpleasant thing, but explained that she didn’t want to hide anything from me.

Almost all of her emails came with a picture that had the general attitude of, “Oh hey there, I’m just being all casual over here.”

On day 9 she asked for my picture, which I never sent.  Fast-forward to day 24 when she recounted how she was discussing me with her friend:

“I him have told about our letters as we to understand each other and that at us with you much in common,” she said.  “I to show them your photo, I to unpack it and now at my place there is you pic.”

I didn’t challenge her on the fact I hadn’t actually sent a photo.  Maybe she drew a picture of how she imagined me?  After all, I was clearly on her mind all the time.  The next day, she told me of a dream in which we were at the beach and ran into each others arms.  There was a kiss.  “It was divine,” she said.

Our relationship was on the super fast track.  Just like with Olga, it took only about a month for Anastasiya to fall in love with me:

“I very much want that we were together,” she said.  “Now I am possible to give in dreams, but these are fine dreams and I trust that dreams come true also I will try to make all for this purpose. I love you…… I hope that my letter will give to you many fine emotions this day.”

The finest.  She told me again the next day that she looked at my (imaginary) pictures above her bed every night before going to sleep.  A week later, she first broached the idea of us seriously meeting, saying she would go to a local travel agency and see what we needed to do.  She also sent me “millions of air kisses,” which I can tell you may sound nice, but are really exhausting to have to catch.

Day 38: disaster.  Anastasiya went to the travel agency and learned she would need $710 for documents in order to travel to the United States.  She only had $120.  Naturally, I offered to support her in any way I could, and her tears quickly turned to elation.  All she needed from me was the name of my local airport in order to find out how much the flight would cost.

At this moment, I actually had 1 percent doubt in the back of my mind that made me picture some poor woman sitting at JFK waiting to be picked up by Fred (the name I used).  So I figured if I made up a fake airport, and she went on like it was normal, I would know for certain that she was simply trying to get a money transfer and not actually travel here.

Thus, Eli Manning Airport, which was funny enough when I wrote it, but seeing her reference it brought on some serious LOLs.

“I told them the name of your airport,” she wrote.  “They said that the cheapest ticket from Moscow to your airport will cost 728 dollars. I told them that this is your airport , Eli Manning airport. Fred So my whole trip will cost to you . 1318 dollars.”

The travel agency apparently told her to go visit the bank, which in turn advised her that I should use Western Union to send her the money.   “Fred have you heard about this company?”

On day 53, Anastasiya went Olga on me.  I hadn’t responded for three days, and apparently that’s not okay when you’re madly in love.

My bad.  Lucky for her, I had good news!  I told her I went to Western Union and sent her almost double the amount of money she needed.  I included a 10-digit confirmation number (obtained from an online random number generator), which shockingly didn’t seem to correspond to a Western Union transaction.

“Fred , They told me that this translation does not exist. I have long argued with them, but they said that nothing can not do.”

I replied that I didn’t understand the problem, and sent her a receipt, which was literally this picture, at this size:

When she said it was impossible to read, I told her it worked fine for me and suggested there was a problem with the computer she was using.  After a few days of back-and-forth, we reached the end of the second month with me announcing that I had talked to Western Union, and they were willing to give me a new receipt.

But then we hit a snag.  I told her that when I went back to get the new paperwork, I was given a notice that my transfer had been DENIED and was being investigated by the authorities.  “PLEASE TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON,” I wrote.  Anastasiya has ice water in her veins.  She was not phased by such silly inconveniences.

“Fred I know why it happened, I know why they refused to help you. Maybe their boss confines send from your country to Russia so much money , because our countries are not the best relationship. Fred , I just went to the office of Western Union, and they said that such a situation as we have often happens.”

Totes not a big deal, Fred.  She said her Western Union people advised that I should split the transaction up into two smaller ones to have a better chance of it slipping through.  I expressed unease, telling her that every day the authorities were giving me more information that made me doubt her: “You need to convince me you are genuine before I can continue loving you.”

Her response? WHAT.EVS.  “Now I do not even know if I want to come to you,” she wrote.  “Now’s not the money . Now the whole thing in our relationship with you.”  However, a few days later (day 65), she assured me again that everything will be cool if we just persevere.  She said many girls from her town had come to the U.S., including one who works for the police now and assured Anastasiya that she and I will not have any problems.

For the heck of it, I asked her to take a picture holding my name and to see a copy of a contract she had gotten from the travel agency, you know, so I could make sure she wasn’t getting ripped off or anything.  She sent both.

The contract was, not surprisingly, all in Russian.  I do not speak Russian.  I do have a couple of friends who do, and they were pretty excited to translate for me.  Of course, the one thing I did not need translated was the name of her destination:

My friend Anastasia (note the different spelling) told me the travel agency is called Flamingo Tourism and “doesn’t, uh, seem to exist.”  Another friend, Margarita, read it and said, “If honest, it says nothing concrete…nothing at all.  No dates when the contract was signed.”  She also said the amounts referenced were $710 for documents and now only $590 for airfare.

I told Anastasiya I went back to Western Union, had no problems with the transaction this time, and got a new receipt:

As you can see, I spent about three minutes in Photoshop altering a receipt from an Italian guy I found online.  She told me she went to Western Union, and again, shockingly, was unable to get the money.  She even had the audacity to question why parts of the receipt are dated 2011 instead of 2014.

This is where our relationship came crumbling down.  On day 82 I told her that I didn’t understand why all of this was such a hassle.  “I’m not saying you’re lying about the problems,” I said, “but you are the one who said to use this service and it has been nothing but problems.”

Day 83, Anastasiya: “Don’t know why you think I could decieve you.”
Day 84, Fred: “Lies on lies on lies.”
Day 85, Anastasiya: “Fred you BASTARD.  I quit my favorite job because of you…maybe you cheated on me.”

A few days went by, but the situation did not improve.

Day 87, Anastasiya: “Fred, you do not know anything about my love. Once again, I was convinced that all men only want money alcohol and entertainment.”
Day 87, Fred: “Um, I never asked you for any of those things.  It was you who asked me for money.”

At this point I was pretty done with our “relationship,” so I didn’t respond.  A week later, she wrote to me again.

“Hello my Fred. I have not received emails from you. How are you? I always look forward to your letter. I miss you and still think about how we’ll be together.”

I briefly considered going in for another round, but a nap seemed like a better idea.  My only response to her was, “I’m fine, how are you?”  Three days later she sent her final message.

“Hello Fred, I have all the old. I returned to my job. There is nothing new in my life happens. I’m still all alone and did not find a man for herself. Fred, Maybe you found a girl for yourself? Will tell me about it.”

I told her I had in fact found a girl, and after 99 days a love for the fairytale books came to an end.