Holy snap. You'd think we had a house full of colicky infants, there was so much crying going on.
When the storms rolled in friday it took out the power to most of the camp. Our phones and computer systems were down as well.
I'm told that south of here looks like a war zone. There are lots of people that lost pretty much everything and there may be a week or two before some people get their power back on.
We got lucky.
Our laundry just got power back yesterday afternoon. So our laundry has been sitting in the baskets in C-wing for two days waiting to go out.
They're crying about that.
Some jerk suggested that I go dig through the 160+ bags for his laundry bag so he could have his towel back so he could take a shower.
Day shift does phone calls on saturday mornings. Every offender that is eligible gets a fifteen minute phone call on saturday mornings. But of course, the phones were out so that didn't happen.
They're crying about that, too. Big time.
And, of course, there was nobody there friday and saturday who knew how to run rec (like they would have done any in the middle of a freaking tornado anyway) so no rec got done those two days. And I got involved in a use of force sunday and spent the day doing paperwork and none got done that day, either.
And they're crying about that.
I snapped on A-wing. After about the fiftieth person cried about their rec. I went into A-wing and someone said the key phrase: "Gimme my motherfuc*ing rec! We haven't had rec in four or five days.." I snapped. Yelled. Shouted. Told them to go fork themselves. Told them if they didn't shut the snap up about rec I was going to get a headache and go home and it would be another day before they got anything.
It shut them up for a few minutes and somebody actually apologized. Shocking.
So we managed to get a few rounds out last night. Not as many as we should have on a normal day, but we got it started. But everybody everybody everybody is still crying about their phone calls. I told them they won't get another chance to make phone calls until next saturday. They are not happy about that. And every single one of them has a sob story about why they absolutely have to make a phone call home. The safety of the free world may depend on it, or so they claim.
Booshwa. Or whatever that word is. Bullcrackers.
They irritated me enough last night that I do believe the top of my hat melted just a bit.
Today I am going in with a bad case of selective deafness. If they have something to say they better either write it down or tell someone else, because I'm not listening. And if it's an emergency, they better be actively on fire or holding up a severed limb. Otherwise it's not important enough to take up my time.
My phrase for today will be "No, or I don't know or I don't care. Whichever is appropriate."
We'll try that on for size.
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