April 4, 2022

Who was taken for a ride?

 

I've had instances when two women were upset and angry about getting in my car to ride to Krakow but, by the end of the trip, were smiling and giving me big hugs and telling me, "This is my lucky day," and "You are a good man."  My experience with Sasha two days ago was the opposite.  Here is what happened.

 

Sasha is the type of women who, when she walks into a room, all heads swivel to look at her and all conversations stop, not because of her beauty, but because of her magnetic personality. She is equal parts loquacious and flirtatious. Men sit at her feet like dogs waiting for a treat. When she orders them to jump, they respond, "How high?"

 

I saw evidence of this at the refugee reception center. She asked two burly, rough looking Spanish mercenaries who were on their way across the border to fight for Ukraine to carry her two very large bags from the bus into the reception center. Not only did they comply, but they hung around like dogs waiting to be petted. I was amazed when she got a Polish police officer to order two of his subordinates to carry her bags to my car. Polish police officers are not known for going out of their way to help citizens. 

 

I must admit that I, too, fell under her spell. When they announced that four seats were available in a car to Krakow, she and another woman immediately asked for a ride. Since no other passengers materialized to fill up the car, we started to leave when the other woman suddenly bolted and left to catch a bus. So, I was left with only Sasha as my passenger. While fluttering her eyelashes at me, she asked in English in her heavy Ukrainian accent if I could please drive her to destination, which was a city, an hour's drive past Krakow. This would add two hours to an already very long six-hour round trip ride back to my hotel. My cold heart melted at the sight of her moist eyes and I agreed to my later regret.

 

If I were a psychologist, I would diagnose Sasha as having the DSM-V category of bipolar disorder. I would add an overlap of narcissistic personality disorder to the mix. For the first two hours of the ride, she was extremely talkative, animated, humorous and gregarious.  She talked about how she took her two children, official documents and money and left at 4:00 a.m. for the border when the Russians invaded Ukraine. She ended up in a city near Krakow, where she got a job as a cook in a restaurant. Having never worked in a restaurant kitchen before, she, however, rose in the ranks to become second in command in just one month. She said that the owner of the restaurant told her that when she opens another restaurant, Sasha would become the head chef. She claimed to have a high-level part-time job with Google, researching articles about Ukraine.

 

She said things like, "John, when we get to my restaurant, I make for you delicious vegan dishes," "I introduce to you the owner of my restaurant and the head chef," "You bring family to Ukraine when war is over, I give you hotel and breakfast and dinner," and "You need food for refugees? I call supermarket owner and he give you food for very low price," "Everybody knows me in Ukraine business."

 

When we stopped for gas and a pit stop, she bought a Subway vegan sandwich and gave it to me. I said that I couldn't eat it now because I was looking forward to a vegan dinner at her restaurant. Little did I know that there would be no vegan dinner nor would I meet the owner and the head chef.

 

Shortly after that, her demeanor suddenly changed, and she became very quiet and moody. No longer did she boast about her accomplishments and what she would do for me.  It was telling when her babysitter called to ask when we would arrive, as she needed to leave soon.  Sasha said, "In 10 minutes," even when she clearly saw on the GPS on my phone that we were 45 minutes away. The babysitter called again, desperate, because she needed to leave right away. Sasha ignored her pleas and, in fact, had me pull over at an Italian restaurant to order a pizza for delivery later.  When I asked her, "Shouldn't we go home quickly because the babysitter needs to leave?" She replied, "It's ok, I'm very hungry."

 

I helped carry her bags into the house when we finally arrived. At this point in the rides, all other Ukrainian mothers and children have given me big hugs and thanked me profusely, some with tears in their eyes. Sasha said a quick and dismissive "Thank you" and "Bye."

 

As I drove away, I couldn't help but wonder whether I was the one taken for a ride.