This bozo was trying hard to push my buttons and he very nearly succeeded.
I don't think he would have liked it that much if I had gone with what my head was telling me.
I was kicking out food trays in A-wing and this guy asks "How do I go about getting moved to another cell? I want to go in with my partner downstairs." I shrugged and said "Ask midnight shift. We don't do convenience moves."
Well, he didn't like that answer. I guess he assumed I would drop everything and roll out the red carpet to put him in with his buddy.
He doesn't know me very well, obviously.
His face clouded up and he said "Well, I want P.C., then! You have to move me now!" And he got this satisfied look on his face like he had just outfoxed me.
I said "Write a kite to the Sergeant." and slammed the chuck hole and walked away. I heard him in there muttering and complaining.
He never said he was in fear for his life from his cellie. As a matter of fact, I heard him in there discussing why I wouldn't move him with his cellie after I walked away. They were getting along fine.
A little while later we ended up taking them both out for rec. Knucklehead comes out of the cell mouthing me about how I am denying him his P.C. rights and he's going to file paper on me.
The conversation went like this:
I said "Did you write a note?"
"Did you give it to anybody?"
"It's in my cell."
"Then you haven't checked in. You got nothing to complain about."
"I'll file paper on you!"
"I don't care."
"I'll write a letter to the Major!"
"Tell him I said 'Hi' "
Boy, he just didn't like that one bit. I came real close to just putting him back in his cell and letting him get his rec inside. I probably should have.
Out on the rec yard he continues running his mouth. He tells me "I 12-12 in february. I don't have to do a thing you tell me to! I could stay out here and make you carry my a** back inside!" Man, he doesn't know how happy that sort of event would make me. I got a feeling I'm going to be changing his address as soon as we walk back in the house. I nip inside and let Sgt Miz P know what is going on and that there might be a problem. She smiles at me and says "Okay, Revvy. Let me know what happens and if you need any help."
She trusts my judgment. I'm still not sure why.
On the way back in he starts up again. I'm real tempted to just walk him into a C-wing cell myself and see what happened from there. But we still had seven other offenders loose in the wing on the way back to their cells. That kind of situation could turn bad real quick.
Instead, I point to the restraint bench and say "Sit your a** down right there." And when he sits I lock his cuffs to the bench and we head out to put the others away. On the way through I stick my head in the office and say "D*ckhead is on the bench in C-wing."
So while BG and I were putting the rest of them up, Chucky and some new guy were putting the knucklehead in a C-wing cell by himself.
He wasn't real happy about that, either. Chucky and the new guy almost planted him on the way to the cell. And almost again during med pass.
I wrote a little note on the board where we put him that states "Leave in C-wing for as long as possible, please."
I hope somebody pays attention.
Good morning! - *I made donuts for breakfast. Not really from-scratch, but made from canned biscuits. I imagine everybody knows about this trick: Take the biscuits out ...
3 days ago