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Day 19

Tuesday, Febuary 22, 2000

As long as I live, I never want to be told what components are combined to make a piece of jail sausage. Animal? Vegitable? Mineral? Extraterrestrial? It is possibly the nastiest shit on earth, second only to jail grits.

Ya know, cops can be assholes sometimes. I know that sounds like a foreign concept, with positive police role models in the media such as Andy Griffith and Officer Barbrady, but its true. Some cops are true, genuine assholes. This morning, I patiently waited at the sign out window up front to be signed out to leave for work at 7:30. I stood there from 7;15 to 7:30. Nobody would sign me out. They looked at me and basically taunted me for fifteen minutes. I can handle lock down. The food I can refuse to eat. Making me wait until I'm late and the yelling at me for being late REALLY pisses me off. At 7:33, I very calmly said, in a polite, almost apologetic tone, "Uh, Escuse me...Officer?" to which the bitch cop who had been acting as if I wasn't there, suddenly recognised my existance.

"You'll NEVER leave this place if you rush me! This is SHIFT CHANGE!! If you continue to rush me every damn morning, you'll ALWAYS be late, I'll promise you that!!"

This bitch doesn't make sense. After waiting patiently for twenty minutes, I speak up after I've waited 5 minutes PAST the time SHE'S supposed to let me out, and I'm rushing her? Fuck that ignorant bitch!! DAMN, stupid people piss me off. As we say in da hood, "Fuck da Po-Po."

But I digress...

Once at work, I read my e-mail and began posting entries again. I finished the Sunday entry and began on Monday. My counter had tacked up many a hit. It seems I have been linked to by Al of Nova Notes and Paulineee of Inertia, as well as being listed on the Journal-1 mailing list. Thanks to all, and also to the kind folks who took the time to send me e-mail. I try to respond to every e-mail, and so far, that hasn't been any problem. One girl named Pam sent me some Jail Jokes. I've started a section to put them in, so if you have any good jokes, funny pictures or anything else having to do with jail, please send them to me. Inmates like to laugh too, even if its at ourselves.

I went to another AA meeting tonight I'm still having trouble being convinced that I'm an alcoholic. I can't say for sure I'm not, but I can't say I am either. They try to convince me, and some of the examples seem to relate to my life, many other examples, however, do not. One thing's for certain - if I'm NOT an alcoholic, they're going to turn me into one. Talk about beer for an hour straight, and I want one. Then again, if you talk about a hoagie for an hour straight, I'll want one of those, too. Hell, I could go for a hoagie and a beer right now!

I had a couple of questions for the guys that held our meeting tonight. they semed eager and willing to help me any way they could, even if it just meant answering a couple of questions. These are good guys. I asked about a couple of things thay had mentioned in their testimonies.

Then the guard came in and told them they had to leave.

What kind of stupid shit is THAT?? Two volunteers come in to jail on their OWN time to lead an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting for the inmates, and as soon as I act interested in it, the guard kicks them out. Not to mention that the court has REQUIRED me to go to these meetings, and for getting interested in it as opposed to being tortured by it, they punish me by kicking the AA guys out of the dorm. This place is SO fucked in the head, and I might reiterate that some COPS are ASSHOLES!!!!!!

After the meeting, I went back in the dorm and wrote out some of this entry. the writing is theraputic sometimes. It helps to calm me when I get frustrated like I was after the AA meeting. Unfortunately that didn't last.

I went to the phones to call my wife and kids. It was about 9:00, and all four phones were occupied. That's OK, because the phone limits you to 15 minute calls. After 14 minutes, it gives you a one minute warning, then again with 15 seconds remaining, then it disconnects. this guarantees that inmates can only talk 15 minutes. Unless the bastards call right back without giving the next guy in line a turn. After thirty minutes of waiting, I got downright violent. I had already watched one guy hang up and call right back. When I say him try to do it again, going got 45 minutes instead of the thirty he had already been on the phone, I called him out. He said he wasn't finished yet, to which I stood over him and told him, rather unsympathetically, that that was Tough Shit. Being a rather small man, he hung up the phone and walked away. As he went, he bitched that his girl friend was expecting him to call right back. I told him he could explain it to her when he called her back after MY 30 minute phone call, and the calls of the four people waiting in line behind me. Inconsiderate little shit.

Then everything was all better. I got to speak with my wife, and although her bed time is at 9:30, my daughter was still up when I called at 9:45 waiting for my call. I told her I loved her, she gave me kisses over the phone, and we hung up. I had been on the phone maybe three and a half to four minutes. the guy who had been on the phone before me tried to grab the phone back as I was hanging up. I held the reciever back from him as the person in line came up to get the phone. "Motherfucker! I TOLD you I gotta call my girl back!"

"You HAD your turn, now THESE guys need to call THEIR families," I snapped as I handed the phone to the next guy in line. He shot a glance at the inconsiderate shit for brains trying to grab the phone. Mr. Inconsiderate turned back to me.

"Hey FUCK YOU man!" he said.

Knowing how to speak with dignity and eloquence under stress, I replied calmly, but with sincerity, "Fuck YOU, BITCH!"

At this point one of the other guys in line stepped in and separated us, but also made it perfectly clear to the guy that he would not be getting back on the phone until everyone else in line had taken their turn in order. He was pissed, but drastically outnumbered, so he let it go. I don't like getting on anyone's bad side, especially not in jail, but Hey, Fuck'em.

He also is the same guy that will get two cups of tea when he gets his dinner tray, then before everyone has gone through the line, go back and get two MORE cups of tea, then two MORE cups. He is always hanging out with this tall gangly looking freak who does the same. At their table you will see two men, two trays, and twelve cups of tea. Then the last guys in line get their trays and either there's no more cups, or no more tea. These men are forced to go without a drink, or if they have an extra styrofoam cup at their bunk, they can have tap water. Screw that. Those guys are lucky I haven't been last in line yet. When that happens to me I'm taking their extra cups and if they try to stop me they'll be wearing the shit.

DAMN! I hate inconsiderate people.

Am I being a tad bitter? Probably so. Sorry. This place frustrates the hell out of you.

The guys at work have said I've changed since I got in there. I used to be cool as ice, unable to be stirred by frustrating customers or difficult technical problems. I would always handle whatever came at me calmly and patiently until I got the results I needed. Lately I'm constantly saying "Fuck" this, or "Screw" that. I get easily pissed off, and I'll put a customer on MUTE and cuss like a sailor telling this person that can't hear me how fucking STUPID they are, and that their problem would be solved by now if they'd just shut the fuck up, leave shit alone, and do ONLY WHAT I tell them, AS I tell them, and not touch another fucking thing!!!

That's NOT me. I don't get that excited or angry and I sure as hell don't talk that way.

And yet it happens two or three times a day.

What is this place doing to me? What am I becoming in here? Most importantly, will I return to normal after I get out, or will this aggression follow me and have an effect on my life? I can't stand it, yet I can't stop it because I don't see it's coming until it's there. Weird, huh?

I can't stand this place much longer. I hope I get that DRC thing they've been talking about, where I get out after half my sentence and have to report and drug test weekly until my sentence is over. Going downtown a couple times a week is no problem compared to being locked up night after night. This place is making me crazy.

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