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Tidings of Evil and Hate
Yeah, I've been absent for awhile. Sorry, real life sucks sometimes. On the plus side, I've got months of stories to share.
IM = Inmate
CW = Coworker
ME = Yeah
Story Time
A little background. In the evenings, the inmates get an hour and a half to play in the dayroom. Their scheduled time is based on which section of the house they live in.
CW: Wasn't that guy over there out last Dayroom?
ME: Yeah, I was about to go talk to him. I already talked to him about this the other day.
So I called him away from his card game.
ME: Let me tell you a story.
IM: Okay...
ME: It's called "The Little Inmate that Couldn't."
IM: ???
ME: Once upon a time, there was a little inmate who thought he could do whatever he wanted. But he couldn't. So he got a DR and went to the hole. The end.
IM: So.... you want me to go in or you're going to write me up?
ME: That's the moral of the story.
IM: Can I finish this card game first?
ME: No.
I do love this job. I like to test every now and then and make sure I've still got plenty of leftover hate pent-up from all my years dealing with customers to tap into.
Grand Mal Seizure Lite
IM: I think I need to go to the Clinic.
ME (seeing no profuse bleeding or missing limbs): Why?
IM: I'm having a seizure.
ME: ...
IM: ...
ME: Now?
IM: Well, it's like, seizure... spasms. In my neck.
ME: Reeeally...
IM: *Twitch*
You know, it's too bad the state considers me not sufficiently qualified to make medical determinations, or I'd tell him to go fuck himself. But, alas, I had to go ahead and send him to the clinic so that someone who went to nursing school and is sufficiently accredited enough to be considered a medical professional can tell him to go fuck himself. Just think of all the money I could save the state...
The Beast
Inmate wanted to change the mop water for the cleaning cart, so I took him to the custodian's closet and unlocked the door. I stood outside so I could keep an eye on the other inmates who were having Dayroom (think indoor recess for convicts).
IM: AAAAAUUUUGGGGGAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!
ME: *peek into the closet. Inmate is spraying the wall with the hose running from the faucet.
IM: I HATE SPIDERS! I FUCKING HATE THEM!
ME: Feel better now?
IM: Blrgblebgle! Fuck! Fucking Spiders! Damn!
Later, when I put the cleaning supplies away, I was happy to see Shelly (for Shelob) was alive and well crawling around on the wall in the hallway by the closet. I've gotten used to seeing her stalking around in there. She's a freaking beast of a spider, like, any bigger and she could easily devour one or two unsuspecting convicted criminals. The drowned spider was either a different one, or water is simply no match for monsters from your darkest nightmares.
Brain(less) Bleach
While searching a cell, I found a cup full of bleach. I can understand not trusting the inmates who work in laundry to get one's clothing clean, but one should also understand why having something as potent as bleach in their possession can be considered dangerous contraband. We issue them bleach to clean their cells, but it is not to be stored (though it is greatly watered down and is only good for about 6 hours). Rather than writing the guy up, I dumped it in his toilet so that I could tell him not to do it again - then next time I catch him with it I can add "Disobeying Orders" to the write-up. After he came back from dinner, he came stomping over to the desk holding the empty cup.
IM: I need some bleach, because you dumped this out and I need to do my laundry.
ME: You're serious, aren't you?
IM: How am I supposed to do my goddamned laundry?
ME: I don't care if you do your own laundry, but if I catch you making your whites whiter with my chemicals again and you're getting a DR (Disciplinary Report).
IM: grumble grumble fucking grumble
Petty? Maybe. But better than a cup of bleach thrown in my eyes.
Magic: The Incarceration
Yesterday, there 4 inmates playing Magic. How do they play Magic in prison, you ask? They make their own cards. They cut out card-sized pieces of paper, put them in their typewriters (if they have one), and type up the card type and details. Some of the super-nerds even draw an image on them.
I had to wonder, and maybe I'll ask them sometime. A set number of licensed cards are printed based on rarity, promotions, and so on. Creating your own cards, everyone has the ability to make cards do whatever they want. There's so much potential for someone to be a prick and make "Super Ultimate Beast of Win." Plus, you know the losers of the game go back to their cells and create cards to specifically null whatever ultimate card the winner had. I'm just waiting for an argument to break out consisting of 20 minutes of "nuh-uh!" and "uh-huh!" before someone walks off saying, "you guys suck. I'm not playing anymore."
I know. I think too hard about things sometimes.
TMI
IM *rings into intercom in control room*: Hey CO?
ME: Yeah?
IM: Can I take a shower? I have a medical thing-
ME: Okay.
IM: -because I need to-
ME: Yeah, okay. *pushes switch to open door*
IM *comes to window of control room*: Thanks. I got this medical thing-
ME: Yeah, okay. Go shower.
IM: I need to wash out these boxers and clean myself off, you know?
ME: ><
Seriously, dude. It's not just the fact that I don't care to begin with, I really don't want/need to know the details. It's not shower time, you got medical stuff going on, works for me. End of discussion. kthxbi
On THAT note...
IM *rings into control*
ME: Yeah?
IM: I need to take a shit.
ME: Okay. Good luck with that.
IM: Can you let my celly out?
ME: No.
IM: Please?
ME: Sorry, it doesn't work that way.
IM: I can't hold it anymore. It'll only take 5 minutes.
ME: Okay. Good talk.
IM: Please let my celly out?
ME: Nope. Hang a sheet around you like everyone else.
IM: Just let him out?
Persistent little bastard, aren't you?
ME: No.
IM: I'm about to shit my pants.
ME: Well, I would think your celly would probably have a bigger problem with that than going in the toilet dude.
IM: So you don't care?
ME: No, actually I don't. You know what your options are. Sounds like you're running out of time. Make your choice.
If you don't want to go in front of someone, don't go to prison. That's about all the advice I can give. The toilet is less than a foot away from the door, so I get to see/smell you doing your business when I make my rounds. So it sucks for all of us. Deal with it.
Yeah, the Saw thing was intentional.
Random Musical Number
IM1: Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale...
IM2: A tale of a fateful trip...
IM3: That started on this tropic port...
IM1: Aboard this tiny ship.
I don't know why 3 guys randomly singing the theme from Gilligan's Island at the top of their lungs in the shower is awesome, but it was.
Consider Yourself PWND
So I was searching a cell and this guy had a book that had another inmate's name and ID # stamped in it, meaning that was the inmate who paid for the book. Flipping through the book I found 2 photocopied pages of porn. Inmates aren't allowed to let each other borrow property, but I also had to figure out who was going to get charged with having the porno. Did the guy forget to take the pictures out before loaning the book, or was that part of the deal?
The inmate who had the book met me at the desk.
IM: That's my book.
ME: Are you sure that's your book?
IM: Yes.
ME: So you are claiming that this book, and everything in it, is yours?
IM: Um... yeah.
ME: Okay.
IM: Why?
ME: Well, the book is registered to someone else, so-
IM: My friend let me borrow it.
ME: So you're lying to me?
IM: No.
ME: Then the book is yours and so is what's in it?
IM: Yeah.
ME: Okay then.
IM: Are you going to write me up?
ME: Yup.
IM: For what?
ME: Dealing and Trading, since you already told me someone let you borrow the book, and Sexually Explicit Materials.
IM: WHAT?
ME: Like you don't know about the pictures?
IM: What pictures?
ME: The ones with the two girls?
IM: What?
ME: You know, the ones that lost all their clothes so they had to use their tongues to try to keep warm?
Okay, so pretty open and shut. I wrote him up, and when my Sgt was serving the DR, his celly came down and said that HE had the pictures, because he got a book form the library the day before and they were in there. So the other guy, being the good-intentioned soul that he is, hid the pictures so they could get rid of them. Utter BS, but since the guy was claiming responsibility for the porn, that meant the guy I wrote up got out of that charge, so he pled guilty to the dealing and trading, which is a lesser charge.
But wait, there's more. He came up to me a couple of hours later, all smug about beating the porn charge.
IM: So what's going to happen to (IM who owns the book)?
ME: Since you told me he let you borrow the book, I'm going to write him up too.
IM: Oh. Well, uh, I didn't exactly borrow it. I saw it on the Native American grounds and took it.
ME: Oh, so you don't want him to find out you jacked his stuff?
IM: I'm just saying, that I stole it and should be charged with Theft.
ME: You already pled out on the dealing and trading. It's done. I can't amend the charge now.
IM: But, I mean, there's gotta be a way!
ME: No, it's out of my hands. And I'd change it if I could. Not only would I hit you with Theft, but also Lying.
IM: When did I lie?
ME: Let's see, when you told me the book was yours, then that you borrowed it, or how about getting your celly to take the porn charge for you. I'm not stupid, I know you too well. You're both bullshitting me.
Okay, so I at least had the satisfaction that the guy he stole from may beat the guy's ass. Then the next day, I heard the other guy found out and came up with a story that he donated the book and had paperwork to prove it, so he might beat the charge. I really wanted to nail the original guy, and a plan began to form.
I emailed the Disciplinary Lt, because she'd be the only one who could make this happen. I told her about how the guy changed his story, which basically changed the facts of the entire issue, and now was begging me to charge him with Theft. I let her know I'd be perfectly happy to charge him with Theft (a Class I charge, more severe than the trading charge which is Class II), and that I would also like to charge him with Lying and Accessory to Sexually Explicit Material. Accessory isn't used much because it's hard to prove, but I had his testimony AND his celly's testimony that he hid the pictures for the guy (allegedly). So he would still get a charge in connection to it, and it carries the same level of severity as the charge he was party to.
The next day, I checked my email. She replied, "Write him!" So I did. Then I went to his cell.
ME: Hey, I've got good news.
IM: What?
ME: I talked to (LT) and she agreed to drop the DR you pled to in favor of Theft.
IM: WHAAAAAAT?
ME: So you got what you wanted.
IM: But... you.... no.... that... YOU CAN'T DO THAT!
ME: Apparently I can.
IM: You told me it was out of your hands! You lied to me!
ME: No, it was out of my hands. But the Disciplinary office can approve it.
IM: THIS IS BULLSHIT!
ME: So I already wrote the new DR, you'll be getting it later.
IM: I WANT TO TALK TO THE CAPTAIN!!!
ME: Have a good one. *walk away*
They sent the new DR down for me to sign and be served. I showed it to a coworker in the cellhouse.
CW: You know, all you're doing is using the rulebook.... But this is genius. And evil.
ME: Aw, thanks.
It's like I tell these guys over and over. I don't lose on paper. Ever.
I think that will do for now. There are more, I just need to remember them.
IM = Inmate
CW = Coworker
ME = Yeah
Story Time
A little background. In the evenings, the inmates get an hour and a half to play in the dayroom. Their scheduled time is based on which section of the house they live in.
CW: Wasn't that guy over there out last Dayroom?
ME: Yeah, I was about to go talk to him. I already talked to him about this the other day.
So I called him away from his card game.
ME: Let me tell you a story.
IM: Okay...
ME: It's called "The Little Inmate that Couldn't."
IM: ???
ME: Once upon a time, there was a little inmate who thought he could do whatever he wanted. But he couldn't. So he got a DR and went to the hole. The end.
IM: So.... you want me to go in or you're going to write me up?
ME: That's the moral of the story.
IM: Can I finish this card game first?
ME: No.
I do love this job. I like to test every now and then and make sure I've still got plenty of leftover hate pent-up from all my years dealing with customers to tap into.
Grand Mal Seizure Lite
IM: I think I need to go to the Clinic.
ME (seeing no profuse bleeding or missing limbs): Why?
IM: I'm having a seizure.
ME: ...
IM: ...
ME: Now?
IM: Well, it's like, seizure... spasms. In my neck.
ME: Reeeally...
IM: *Twitch*
You know, it's too bad the state considers me not sufficiently qualified to make medical determinations, or I'd tell him to go fuck himself. But, alas, I had to go ahead and send him to the clinic so that someone who went to nursing school and is sufficiently accredited enough to be considered a medical professional can tell him to go fuck himself. Just think of all the money I could save the state...
The Beast
Inmate wanted to change the mop water for the cleaning cart, so I took him to the custodian's closet and unlocked the door. I stood outside so I could keep an eye on the other inmates who were having Dayroom (think indoor recess for convicts).
IM: AAAAAUUUUGGGGGAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!
ME: *peek into the closet. Inmate is spraying the wall with the hose running from the faucet.
IM: I HATE SPIDERS! I FUCKING HATE THEM!
ME: Feel better now?
IM: Blrgblebgle! Fuck! Fucking Spiders! Damn!
Later, when I put the cleaning supplies away, I was happy to see Shelly (for Shelob) was alive and well crawling around on the wall in the hallway by the closet. I've gotten used to seeing her stalking around in there. She's a freaking beast of a spider, like, any bigger and she could easily devour one or two unsuspecting convicted criminals. The drowned spider was either a different one, or water is simply no match for monsters from your darkest nightmares.
Brain(less) Bleach
While searching a cell, I found a cup full of bleach. I can understand not trusting the inmates who work in laundry to get one's clothing clean, but one should also understand why having something as potent as bleach in their possession can be considered dangerous contraband. We issue them bleach to clean their cells, but it is not to be stored (though it is greatly watered down and is only good for about 6 hours). Rather than writing the guy up, I dumped it in his toilet so that I could tell him not to do it again - then next time I catch him with it I can add "Disobeying Orders" to the write-up. After he came back from dinner, he came stomping over to the desk holding the empty cup.
IM: I need some bleach, because you dumped this out and I need to do my laundry.
ME: You're serious, aren't you?
IM: How am I supposed to do my goddamned laundry?
ME: I don't care if you do your own laundry, but if I catch you making your whites whiter with my chemicals again and you're getting a DR (Disciplinary Report).
IM: grumble grumble fucking grumble
Petty? Maybe. But better than a cup of bleach thrown in my eyes.
Magic: The Incarceration
Yesterday, there 4 inmates playing Magic. How do they play Magic in prison, you ask? They make their own cards. They cut out card-sized pieces of paper, put them in their typewriters (if they have one), and type up the card type and details. Some of the super-nerds even draw an image on them.
I had to wonder, and maybe I'll ask them sometime. A set number of licensed cards are printed based on rarity, promotions, and so on. Creating your own cards, everyone has the ability to make cards do whatever they want. There's so much potential for someone to be a prick and make "Super Ultimate Beast of Win." Plus, you know the losers of the game go back to their cells and create cards to specifically null whatever ultimate card the winner had. I'm just waiting for an argument to break out consisting of 20 minutes of "nuh-uh!" and "uh-huh!" before someone walks off saying, "you guys suck. I'm not playing anymore."
I know. I think too hard about things sometimes.
TMI
IM *rings into intercom in control room*: Hey CO?
ME: Yeah?
IM: Can I take a shower? I have a medical thing-
ME: Okay.
IM: -because I need to-
ME: Yeah, okay. *pushes switch to open door*
IM *comes to window of control room*: Thanks. I got this medical thing-
ME: Yeah, okay. Go shower.
IM: I need to wash out these boxers and clean myself off, you know?
ME: ><
Seriously, dude. It's not just the fact that I don't care to begin with, I really don't want/need to know the details. It's not shower time, you got medical stuff going on, works for me. End of discussion. kthxbi
On THAT note...
IM *rings into control*
ME: Yeah?
IM: I need to take a shit.
ME: Okay. Good luck with that.
IM: Can you let my celly out?
ME: No.
IM: Please?
ME: Sorry, it doesn't work that way.
IM: I can't hold it anymore. It'll only take 5 minutes.
ME: Okay. Good talk.
IM: Please let my celly out?
ME: Nope. Hang a sheet around you like everyone else.
IM: Just let him out?
Persistent little bastard, aren't you?
ME: No.
IM: I'm about to shit my pants.
ME: Well, I would think your celly would probably have a bigger problem with that than going in the toilet dude.
IM: So you don't care?
ME: No, actually I don't. You know what your options are. Sounds like you're running out of time. Make your choice.
If you don't want to go in front of someone, don't go to prison. That's about all the advice I can give. The toilet is less than a foot away from the door, so I get to see/smell you doing your business when I make my rounds. So it sucks for all of us. Deal with it.
Yeah, the Saw thing was intentional.
Random Musical Number
IM1: Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale...
IM2: A tale of a fateful trip...
IM3: That started on this tropic port...
IM1: Aboard this tiny ship.
I don't know why 3 guys randomly singing the theme from Gilligan's Island at the top of their lungs in the shower is awesome, but it was.
Consider Yourself PWND
So I was searching a cell and this guy had a book that had another inmate's name and ID # stamped in it, meaning that was the inmate who paid for the book. Flipping through the book I found 2 photocopied pages of porn. Inmates aren't allowed to let each other borrow property, but I also had to figure out who was going to get charged with having the porno. Did the guy forget to take the pictures out before loaning the book, or was that part of the deal?
The inmate who had the book met me at the desk.
IM: That's my book.
ME: Are you sure that's your book?
IM: Yes.
ME: So you are claiming that this book, and everything in it, is yours?
IM: Um... yeah.
ME: Okay.
IM: Why?
ME: Well, the book is registered to someone else, so-
IM: My friend let me borrow it.
ME: So you're lying to me?
IM: No.
ME: Then the book is yours and so is what's in it?
IM: Yeah.
ME: Okay then.
IM: Are you going to write me up?
ME: Yup.
IM: For what?
ME: Dealing and Trading, since you already told me someone let you borrow the book, and Sexually Explicit Materials.
IM: WHAT?
ME: Like you don't know about the pictures?
IM: What pictures?
ME: The ones with the two girls?
IM: What?
ME: You know, the ones that lost all their clothes so they had to use their tongues to try to keep warm?
Okay, so pretty open and shut. I wrote him up, and when my Sgt was serving the DR, his celly came down and said that HE had the pictures, because he got a book form the library the day before and they were in there. So the other guy, being the good-intentioned soul that he is, hid the pictures so they could get rid of them. Utter BS, but since the guy was claiming responsibility for the porn, that meant the guy I wrote up got out of that charge, so he pled guilty to the dealing and trading, which is a lesser charge.
But wait, there's more. He came up to me a couple of hours later, all smug about beating the porn charge.
IM: So what's going to happen to (IM who owns the book)?
ME: Since you told me he let you borrow the book, I'm going to write him up too.
IM: Oh. Well, uh, I didn't exactly borrow it. I saw it on the Native American grounds and took it.
ME: Oh, so you don't want him to find out you jacked his stuff?
IM: I'm just saying, that I stole it and should be charged with Theft.
ME: You already pled out on the dealing and trading. It's done. I can't amend the charge now.
IM: But, I mean, there's gotta be a way!
ME: No, it's out of my hands. And I'd change it if I could. Not only would I hit you with Theft, but also Lying.
IM: When did I lie?
ME: Let's see, when you told me the book was yours, then that you borrowed it, or how about getting your celly to take the porn charge for you. I'm not stupid, I know you too well. You're both bullshitting me.
Okay, so I at least had the satisfaction that the guy he stole from may beat the guy's ass. Then the next day, I heard the other guy found out and came up with a story that he donated the book and had paperwork to prove it, so he might beat the charge. I really wanted to nail the original guy, and a plan began to form.
I emailed the Disciplinary Lt, because she'd be the only one who could make this happen. I told her about how the guy changed his story, which basically changed the facts of the entire issue, and now was begging me to charge him with Theft. I let her know I'd be perfectly happy to charge him with Theft (a Class I charge, more severe than the trading charge which is Class II), and that I would also like to charge him with Lying and Accessory to Sexually Explicit Material. Accessory isn't used much because it's hard to prove, but I had his testimony AND his celly's testimony that he hid the pictures for the guy (allegedly). So he would still get a charge in connection to it, and it carries the same level of severity as the charge he was party to.
The next day, I checked my email. She replied, "Write him!" So I did. Then I went to his cell.
ME: Hey, I've got good news.
IM: What?
ME: I talked to (LT) and she agreed to drop the DR you pled to in favor of Theft.
IM: WHAAAAAAT?
ME: So you got what you wanted.
IM: But... you.... no.... that... YOU CAN'T DO THAT!
ME: Apparently I can.
IM: You told me it was out of your hands! You lied to me!
ME: No, it was out of my hands. But the Disciplinary office can approve it.
IM: THIS IS BULLSHIT!
ME: So I already wrote the new DR, you'll be getting it later.
IM: I WANT TO TALK TO THE CAPTAIN!!!
ME: Have a good one. *walk away*
They sent the new DR down for me to sign and be served. I showed it to a coworker in the cellhouse.
CW: You know, all you're doing is using the rulebook.... But this is genius. And evil.
ME: Aw, thanks.
It's like I tell these guys over and over. I don't lose on paper. Ever.
I think that will do for now. There are more, I just need to remember them.
It's awesome in an incongruously funny way. The mental picture alone gives one a serious case of the giggles. Especially if they're big, scary-looking brutes. 
(yay I am the first one to get the reference)
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