Just a word now and then about working in a prison and for the Department Of Corrections. Plus a good bit of ranting here and there.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Chock Full Of Nuts
Another hardcore blogger Midtown Miscreant , who blogs about prison life from the other side (It's okay, he's out now) brought up the subject of animals inside the prison fence. Not the human kind. Those we got lots of. He was talking about cats and spiders and critters like that.
Our camp is hip-deep in cats, birds, squirrels, skunks (in the summer) , spiders, cockroaches and even the occasional snake. We have guys who see snakes in their cells all the time. Imagine our surprise when we actually found one. That was a story we held onto for a long time.
We see inmates out on the yard feeding the birds and squirrels all the time. I'm fairly sure that normal squirrels hibernate in the winter. I may be wrong. But there is so much food available that ours don't. It's a good thing they stay so active or we would have a real squirrel obesity problem.
But what does worry me is an ongoing situation on the other side of the camp. MM just reminded me of it this morning. On the yard down by the wobblehead house, if you mosey around and look, you will find pills and tablets out in the grass. When I see them I pick them up and dispose of them. But the wobblers will cheek their psych meds and then spit them out in the grass on the yard. The first time I noticed it I saw a squirrel nibbling on this white blocky looking thing. When I walked up it dropped it and scuttled off. I realized the damn squirrel was gnawing on a thorazine tablet! Holy snap!
I worry that someday the critters in that yard (and maybe even the trees as well) are going to mutate into something that will turn out to be a real problem. If we're lucky, they'll turn into insecure neurotics like Woody Allen. If we're not, then we'll end up with Hannibal Lecter. Giant man-eating squirrels and mutant psychotic trees just can't be a good combination. I'm glad I work on the other side of the camp.
On the lighter side: One evening I was just moseying through the house and I heard this blood curdling shreiking coming from on of the C-wing cells. I trotted down there to see what the problem was and I see this guy plastered to the wall standing up on top of his heater and screaming like a schoolgirl. Now, this guy was six foot plus, maybe 250-275 pounds and covered with prison tats. A real "Killer from the block". And he's pasted himself to the corner and screaming because there was a mouse in his cell.
I couldn't help it.
I laughed so hard I hurt myself and almost had to go home.
My ribs hurt for days afterwards.
That was priceless. I would have almost worked for free, that day.