Saudi Youth Use Cellphone Savvy To Outwit the Sentries of Romance

"This is clearly a way of going over the social barriers, and it is unstoppable," said Alex Shalaby, chief executive of Egypt-based Mobinil, one of the largest cellphone providers in the Middle East. "The tide is just too strong."

Desperately Sending Data

Thobaity talked about Spoiled as he sat with three lifelong buddies in Baguette, a Tex-Mex restaurant in Jiddah, a Red Sea port city of about 2 million people in the far west of Saudi Arabia. Outside, rich young Saudis shopped at Hugo Boss and Bulgari and drank coffee at Starbucks -- drinking alcohol is strictly forbidden and punishable by public lashings.

They cruised until nearly dawn, wealthy boys and girls eyeing each other from inside the latest Mercedes and BMWs, white Cadillac limousines, pink Porsche SUVs and even a yellow Hummer with Monster Truck tires. In the world's richest oil-producing country, fuel prices are not a worry -- at about 60 cents a gallon, gasoline is cheaper than bottled water.

Just after midnight at Baguette, Thobaity's friend Mashhour Baeshen, 21, who is studying business administration at a local university, finished a big sloppy burger, lit up a cigarette and began that evening's quest for love.

"Anywhere there are girls, I use this," said Baeshen, a round-faced man with curly hair, activating the Bluetooth on his Nokia phone and hitting the "search" button.

Named for a 10th-century Danish king who united warring Danes, Swedes and Norwegians, Bluetooth now unites Saudi men and women who are often sitting within a few feet of each other, separated by walls and tradition. Users can choose to make themselves "visible" to all other Bluetoothers within range, whose screen names often give a hint of whether they are in the mood for flirting, such as "Princess of Roses" and "Night Stories."

Baeshen, whose Arabic Bluetooth screen name translates roughly as "The One Who Makes the Girls Crazy," said the names looked promising tonight: "I Feel Pretty," "Shaymolla" and "Think Pink" had to be the girls he could hear laughing beyond the tall wooden partition that split the restaurant.

On the men's side, about 30 guys sat in a thick haze of smoke, drinking Cokes and coffee. Many fiddled with their phones. Baeshen scrolled through the gallery of images he keeps on his phone, including a Winnie the Pooh in a bed of roses. He selected the message "You are honey," written in flowing Arabic script and oozing drops of golden honey.

He clicked on "Think Pink" and sent her the sweet greeting.

He watched intently as the phone told him: "Sending Data."

Then he groaned when it suddenly read: "Data Not Accepted," which meant Think Pink had rejected his digital advance.

Baeshen tried the same gambit with Shaymolla, but she wasn't buying, either.