Along with my cases for the envelope and book I had last week, I also got silly case for being out of place. Luckily, that one was ripped up when I told the sergeant what had happened.
My friend, Omar, is going through some stuff with his family and I was talking with him in his cell when I was called out to visit. Technically, we are not supposed to be in someone else's cell, but it happens all the time with implicit permission from the guards. I explained that I wasn't trying to cause trouble, but help a friend.
"Alright, but if I see a case like this cross my desk again, I'm going to lock you up," the sergeant threatened.
Not even a full day later, the sergeant received my cases for the envelope and book. Needless to say, he was not happy. I explained that I always have stuff with me when I do book cart and haven't done anything different than the last ten months except work on night shift.
"I can't let you make it twice in one day," he said. "Plus, lieutenant is looking for this one to go through."
Sheesh, what did I do to get on his bad side? I pretty much mind my own business, and I don't even have much business. Apparently, i have a large target on my back that just begs the rank to toss darts my direction.
Today my boss got a call from mom, the warden's secretary.
'What did your worker get a case for?"
After my boss explained the plot, she received this reply: "Tell him not to worry. It's taken care of."
Apparently the lieutenant trying to nail me is the same guy who let Ereman off with a verbal reprimand when he threatened me and my boss several months ago. I guess mom still doesn't appreciate that lax judgment, so she made sure my cases went missing. A vigilant mom on my side sure is a nice perk of the job.
Last week during lockdown had a trade of friends - one left the unit while one came back.
It seems too often that a friend leaves around here. I've noticed myself almost subconsciously screening guys when I meet them. If you leave within the next few months, sorry, I don't want to get to know you just before you leave. However, if you'll be here more than a year, I'll hang out. Even out of the guys I've gotten to know pretty well, there have only been a few that have written even once after we separated.
When I showed up in the library for inventory, my boss told me that my good buddy, Lelan, had left the previous day. Lelan was a guy I had been in choir with earlier in the year and, for some reason, we just clicked. We spent time in the library when he needed encouragement and I would duck out and wander to the office where he worked if I needed a pick-me-up of my own. My boss said he would be back in a couple weeks, which I hope is true. I'm going to miss our conversations on life if he stays gone.
On the flip side, the same day that Lelan left, my close friend OJ came back. I thought he had left in parole, but he only went to have a chat in person with some parole folks. When he was her in my pod, he would make sure my laundry came out white like the other laundry workers' clothes. In the time he's been gone my clothes have gotten a bit dingy, so, for that reason it's good to have him back. Really though, I'm hoping he gets back to the dorm soon so we can game again.
My legacy of being a target for stupid cases continues.
We came off lockdown yesterday evening, so West and I decided to run book cart today to give people a chance to read while we did inventory. It's not a big deal that our book cart books are out because most of them ate doubles or cast-offs anyway. West also had the crazy idea to do the whole 100-man unit in one day. Now, these are guys who just came off lockdown, hungry for new reading material while the library is still closed. Book cart was busy and that is an understatement.
We started the book cart at 8:30 am and didn't finish until about 7 pm after the 6:30 shift change. It took a while to find someone to open the library for us to return the carts because the night shift isn't accustomed to the library workers being out on their sift. The lieutenant finally let us in.
As I was coming out, I pulled an envelope from under my clipboard with some poetry from a friend, grabbed my book, and headed out.
"Hold on a sec," called the lieutenant, "Lemme see that envelope."
After I handed him the envelope, he stated, "This doesn't have your name or number on it. It's contraband."
"Alright, you can have it," I conceded, "I don't mind."
"No, you follow me. You'll get confiscation papers and a case."
"Really? For an envelope? I do this every weekend."
"Not this one you don't."
When we reached his office, he filled out maybe half the paperwork before handing me off to the sergeant.
"What's that?" asked the sergeant, eying my book.
"A book. I read while I do book cart. Every weekend."
"Lemme see it."
I handed it over.
"No name or number. It's contraband. I'm confiscating this, too."
"Are you serious? I do the same thing every weekend without any trouble. The only difference is that I don't have to deal with this shift."
"Well, tonight you do," the sergeant sneered.
Now I have two bogus cases to deal with at the same time. Wonderful. What will they come up with next?
The day after my pod was shaken down, my coworker and I were called down to the library on our inventory. This task involves printing entire collection, then checking off each book as we go down the shelves. What already a slow process is complicated by the fact that the officers doing the shakedown don't cooperate with us. We asked them to take up all the library books they find, but that has not happened. I expect the inventory to take a big chunk of time after lockdown because guys are usually reluctant to turn in their books.
We are about halfway finished now and I'm really enjoying the quiet in the library. Better than the quiet, though, is our lunch. Because the unit is locked down, the dining hall is closed. That doesn't mean the kitchen is empty. There are plenty of workers that fill the johnnies and go pass them out.
When my boss leaves for lunch break she has been leaving us in the kitchen for what we call daycare, and what great daycare it is. This first day we were dropped off, the kitchen guys made Barbecue roast beef with onions and peppers. Using hoagie buns, we made awesome sandwiches. Yesterday the guys made pepperoni pan pizza. Those two meals were better than anything I've eaten in prison so far, and they came during a lockdown!
Today West and I were dropped off too early to get in on the food so while he went out with the johnny crew, I made lunch for the two of us. Using bananas, butter, cinnamon and brown sugar, I made fried bananas to put between toasted bread with peanut butter. I had not had fried bananas in years and had forgotten how awesome the caramelized surface is.
So now I'm wondering why we can't be on lockdown more often. I'm loving this.
My dorm was shaken down today. After lugging my stuff to the gym and back, I was tuckered out. When the johnnies came for dinner, I was ready for a quick meal followed by a bit of reading, then sleep. However, the kitchen pulled a joke on us that delayed the meal quite a bit.
My cellie passed my johnny over when they arrived and immediately I noticed some major heft to the sack. What are they feeding us that is so dense? I was used to salami sandwiches and chips, not whatever this brick was. I looked inside and dug for the bottom to find a raw potato. Really? A potato? I showed Juan and we must have laughed for a full two minutes. What did they expect us to do with a raw potato?
After the convulsions of laughter faded, I came up with an idea: put the potato in the hotpot to cook it, then mash it up with the sour cream and onion chips we got and throw it into the spread we would make later. Three hours later (how's that for a quick meal?) the potato seemed to be done. Juan and I carried out my plan, which included a few Ramen soups, dehydrated refried beans and some beef chunks. It turned out much better than I expected.
The lesson learned: when life gives you potatoes, have a good laugh and improvise. Now I'm full and ready for a good night's rest.
"Hey, they want you in the sergeant's office. Just come back out when you're done."
This was the interruption to our weekly gaming session out at rec. I had no idea what the sergeant wanted me for, but I knew I hadn't done anything wrong. I just had to get up and leave my fellow players hanging.
When I got to his office, Sergeant French was sitting behind the desk. He's the one who has always had it out for me since I started working in the library. He was wearing a face that said, "Gotcha this time."
"Come on in. You've got a case for having gambling paraphernalia."
"What? Gambling paraphernalia? What you talking about?" I replied incredulously. I definitely didn't have that in my cell or even hear me.
"Yep. You got a case for these papers."
He held up two sheets of paper with boxes of X's and O's marked in 5 x 5 squares. It took a second for me to recognize what it was and then it hit me.
"That's not gambling paraphernalia. That's a logic puzzle I was working on. The 'exes' and 'ohs' are for eliminating answers."
"I see the nicknames on the rows and columns here. This is gambling," French said, still thinking he had won.
"No, those are labels for the categories. I can show you the puzzle. I have it in my cell."
"Fine. Go get it."
A few minutes later I was back with the puzzle in hand and showed it to the sergeant.
"Oh, so this is a game. You didn't buy this on commissary so it's contraband. That's a case." He was still trying to nail me with something. He just couldn't stand to see me go. I don't know why he dislikes me so much, but he does.
"Hold on," called out the lieutenant from behind her desk. "Come show me how this works."
After I went through the first few clues and showed her the corresponding marks on the paper, she said, "You're OK. Go on back to rec."
I had to go back to the security office when I found that the rec doors were shut. After I asked for the doors to be opened, the lieutenant asked if I knew anything about computers.
"Yeah, quite a bit," I replied.
She turned to the sergeant, smiled, and said, "See, told ya."
