a few things happened last night, but I need to go to sleep soon,--thus brevity--
first: I think maybe I should've quit the prison back in July--not for the immediately apparent reason that once the temperature starts to get really warm in August the inmates get a bit more irate & stabby, but because July, & the months immediately preceeding it, have nice short names that are easy to write on a report.
I had to write two last night which, I'll admit, is unusual. not much happens on graveyard (although I'm a little pprehensive typing that, in that whenever I say "nothing happens" something nasty invariably happens--I just got back from a week off a couple of nights ago & in the unit that I would've been assigned my first day of vacation, at a moment when I was telling someone in a bar that nothing much happens on graveyard, one of the inmates stabbed his cellie with a sharpened toothbrush somewhere in excess of a hundred times--they stopped counting at 70 & figured the third jab did the job--so...)
the first one was at the urging of the officer I'd been paired with, who seems to be suffering from what I believe psychologists term "loopiness"--more on this later, as it looks like I'll be paired with him for at least a couple of nights a week for the next couple of months, but sufficed to say that the jist of the report he had me write ( a full page of full-blown--& ultimately meaningless--cop-speak) was that I was there when he recieved a call from our seargeant, & he (the officer I was with) appeared calm & proffessional throughout the minute & a half conversation.
alright. the second was cobbled together in the last minutes of the shift concerning one of my last duties of the shift, which is "pill call"--escorting a nurse thru the unit to maybe a dozen cells to give out little paper cups of pills or syringes for the diabetics. before leaving one of the wings an inmate called the nurse over & told her that he'd had to sign a medical form earlier & the nurse hadn't taken the pen back. he didn't want them to think he was a thief or anything & wanted to give it back.
this is what popped into my mind: he's giving the pen back. that's cool.
that's why I'll never be a great detective, I guess, I just don't have much in me in the way of suspicion. I pretty much take things at face value. whatever.
anyway, as we left the nurse gave the pen to the other officer I was with & told us to check it out.
inside, tightly rolled was a note to the nurse to the effect that he knew she liked him, he'd be getting out soon & would be able to spend some quality time with her, but if she could see free to kick him down $2500, it'd sure help to grease the skids, y'know 'msayin'?
(it was a bit more elaborate than that, tight copperplate covering both sides of the paper, ending with a plea to give a little wink if all was roger wilco--but that was pretty much the jist.)
it's fairly common &, from what I understand, fairly successful, in that quite a few of our nurses & officers (male & female) have been compromised in that there's a lot that come to this place vulnerable, unlucky in love, lonely, desperate, whatever. (there have been maybe a dozen officers & nurses fired in the past few years for having sex with the inmates, & a few doing hard time for bringing in drugs or, in one recent case, bullets & a knife--one common thread seems to be that they all were charcterized as "haters" --rode the inmates hard, jumped on every little thing. which is one of the reasons that I'm a little distrustful of anyone that seems to go above & beyond the call to show how much they dislike the inmates, in addition to the fact that they (the officers, I mean) are such little napoleanic pices of shit.)
anyway. blah blah. need sleep. more later.
first: I think maybe I should've quit the prison back in July--not for the immediately apparent reason that once the temperature starts to get really warm in August the inmates get a bit more irate & stabby, but because July, & the months immediately preceeding it, have nice short names that are easy to write on a report.
I had to write two last night which, I'll admit, is unusual. not much happens on graveyard (although I'm a little pprehensive typing that, in that whenever I say "nothing happens" something nasty invariably happens--I just got back from a week off a couple of nights ago & in the unit that I would've been assigned my first day of vacation, at a moment when I was telling someone in a bar that nothing much happens on graveyard, one of the inmates stabbed his cellie with a sharpened toothbrush somewhere in excess of a hundred times--they stopped counting at 70 & figured the third jab did the job--so...)
the first one was at the urging of the officer I'd been paired with, who seems to be suffering from what I believe psychologists term "loopiness"--more on this later, as it looks like I'll be paired with him for at least a couple of nights a week for the next couple of months, but sufficed to say that the jist of the report he had me write ( a full page of full-blown--& ultimately meaningless--cop-speak) was that I was there when he recieved a call from our seargeant, & he (the officer I was with) appeared calm & proffessional throughout the minute & a half conversation.
alright. the second was cobbled together in the last minutes of the shift concerning one of my last duties of the shift, which is "pill call"--escorting a nurse thru the unit to maybe a dozen cells to give out little paper cups of pills or syringes for the diabetics. before leaving one of the wings an inmate called the nurse over & told her that he'd had to sign a medical form earlier & the nurse hadn't taken the pen back. he didn't want them to think he was a thief or anything & wanted to give it back.
this is what popped into my mind: he's giving the pen back. that's cool.
that's why I'll never be a great detective, I guess, I just don't have much in me in the way of suspicion. I pretty much take things at face value. whatever.
anyway, as we left the nurse gave the pen to the other officer I was with & told us to check it out.
inside, tightly rolled was a note to the nurse to the effect that he knew she liked him, he'd be getting out soon & would be able to spend some quality time with her, but if she could see free to kick him down $2500, it'd sure help to grease the skids, y'know 'msayin'?
(it was a bit more elaborate than that, tight copperplate covering both sides of the paper, ending with a plea to give a little wink if all was roger wilco--but that was pretty much the jist.)
it's fairly common &, from what I understand, fairly successful, in that quite a few of our nurses & officers (male & female) have been compromised in that there's a lot that come to this place vulnerable, unlucky in love, lonely, desperate, whatever. (there have been maybe a dozen officers & nurses fired in the past few years for having sex with the inmates, & a few doing hard time for bringing in drugs or, in one recent case, bullets & a knife--one common thread seems to be that they all were charcterized as "haters" --rode the inmates hard, jumped on every little thing. which is one of the reasons that I'm a little distrustful of anyone that seems to go above & beyond the call to show how much they dislike the inmates, in addition to the fact that they (the officers, I mean) are such little napoleanic pices of shit.)
anyway. blah blah. need sleep. more later.
But I have some candid questions:
- what are pixie stix ?
- what's the big eight-nine?
Remember the english language is still a rather mysterious thing to me.
Um. Interesting entry indeed. "more later".
--hams
PS. So you like seven-episode serials? I recommend you the one written by this newcomer to the site, tigersaint - an aspiring e-Shahrazad, apparently. Hope it could distract you from these household problems of yours.