What kind of nut job did I get myself involved with?Sasha stepped out of my vehicle and walked over to me. Cars were whizzing by and it was pretty chilly. I was still dressed for a pickup basketball game at a local park, but I didn't care. I had heard enough. I needed to take this woman to a halfway house where they treat mentally-ill patients.Sasha sat next to me on the curb. I didn't even feel like arguing with a crazy person. I didn't feel like talking at all and needed to get home so I could rest.“Do you believe me?” Sasha stared deep into my eyes. What a con job. She was good. Her eyes were as sincere as I had ever seen in my life.“Do I believe you?” I repeated back her question.“Yes, do you believe me?”“I looked at her and gave her a look that said, ‘You can't be serious.’ I just laughed out loud.“So you don't believe me.”“Sasha,” I said. “You’re not well. You're either crazy or a pathological liar. Either one isn't someone I need to be associated with.
