Thursday, March 11, 2010

Hell No! I Won't Go!

That picture gives me the giggles.

There was a wobblehead down in the wobblehead house who was apparently throwing lighters at the wall in his cell. Making them explode. I heard he almost set his cellie on fire.

When they cuffed him up and took him to the Sergeants office, he plopped down on the floor and refused to respond to anybody. Wouldn't talk, wouldn't get up and walk. Nothing. Last report I hear was they were getting together a team to move him down to the Hive.

Next thing I know I hear a Lieutenant calling for our big gate to be opened and here they come, with the wobblehead riding on the back of the golf cart.

Ummm..... I was told we are never supposed to do that.

Oh well, it's a Captain and two Lieutenants with him, so who am I to say anything?

They pull him off the cart and he lifts his feet up in the air so they have to carry him into the house. Only two of them go in with him. I think to myself "I know this idiot and he can be a handful if he was to start bucking. Somebody better go in with them."

Well of course, it's 3:15 and all of the day shift people are trying to go home. None of the rest of my crew is here yet. Of those of us who are here, who can do the paperwork the fastest?

Me. Crap. Okay, so in I go after them. Riding shotgun.

They get him in the cell and he just slumps to the floor. Limp as a dishrag. Neither one of them is wearing gloves so I offer them a couple pair of mine. Never know what kind of awful never-get-over kind of stuff this guy might have. He's pretty nasty. Like living under a dumpster nasty. Yuck.

They have to manhandle him around to get him stripped out, because he is just laying there. It's a tussle, but they get the job done and we get the door closed on him. Mission accomplished! I jotted down the times they got there and what happened when and give it to the Lt for his report.

I'm kinda hoping to stay out of the paperwork. Wishful thinking, I guess.

A little while later I hear that they are saying that was not a use of force. Say what? That sho' 'nuff was one, boss man!

Sure enough, about six this evening, they call me. Gotta go up and do paperwork. I figured that was coming. I get relief and go up. Ten-fifteen minutes, tops. Head on back to the house.

I no sooner get back to the house and they call me on the radio to come back. Something was wrong and we have to fix it. Okey-dokey! Back I go again. Racking up the frequent flier miles.

I burned up three quarters of my shift running back and forth doing paperwork.

I'll bet if they had just sprayed him down there in the office he would have gotten up to walk pretty quickly.

It's a great motivator.

1 comment:

  1. The whole time I'm reading this I'm wondering why nobody gave him any incentive to move on his own.

    The weirdo probably loved the all-hands-on-deck approach.