The Institutional Mouth

It still amazes me sometimes how supposed "adults" will act and speak. I suppose it shouldn't after all of this time, but it still makes me shake my head now and then.

Supposedly, I'm one of the "cool" officers. I don't start any crap and if you ask me calmly and politely for something and you have it coming, I will do my best to get it. But some of them just don't get that. And they seem to think that I won't remember who talked to me like I was some sort of trash just the other day. But I do remember.

And when they don't get what they want, they cuss at me some more.

I wish we were allowed to bring recording devices inside the fence. I'd record what these little punks say to me through the door or the window and send a copy of it home to their mother.

Wouldn't she be proud of her boy then?

Sometimes I do cuss back. It's unprofessional of me, I know. But when you are in a foreign country, you have to learn the native language. The same thing applies. And what they don't realize is that I have been around alot longer than they have and have a much better command of the language and I can cuss them right into a corner and make them look very very young and very stupid.

But that's not really all that hard.

So let's sum the whole thing up. I'm the person who brings you your food. And your clothes. And your mail. And gets you on the telephone. And gives you recreation. And toilet paper. And gives you showers.

And you want to talk to me like I'm a dog and expect me not to do anything about it?

I don't fuc*ing think so.