At The Last Freaking Minute....

Of course, it's always at the last freaking minute. Stupid people.

**siggghhhh*** They keep me in business, I guess.

It had been pretty much a nothing night. So much a nothing night that I was seriously thinking about packing this whole blog thing in.

It's been so long since I have had anything substantive or entertaining to say.

Getting to the point of being more of a chore than a hobby.

I started this to be a vent. And when I don't have anything to vent about, then I don't really have that much to say.

But tonight.... tonight I have something to vent about.

Like I said, it had been pretty much a nothing night. Just me and Goosey and Sgt Uncle T on the yard. Just doing yard dawg stuff. Riding around in the carts, mostly. Nothing.

The yards were closed for the evening. All of the houses on our side had plenty of people so we didn't have to go help count anywhere. Which was good, as I wasn't in the mood to be trapped in the bubble with the Mad Bomber tonight.

Goosey and I were just sitting at the table outside with a couple OJT's, swapping stories about the good old days and making their young impressionable eyes wide with wonder and awe. We were in the middle of count, which meant nobody was moving any inmates anywhere so we had nothing better to do.

When all of the sudden there was this horrible caterwauling on the radio. Like someone feeding a bagpipe through a meat grinder. We could not understand a word of what was said, all we knew was that something was going on and it sounded bad.

Someone, and I don't know who...... seems to get a little tooooo excited on the radio. It took a couple of repeats before we heard that it was a fight in laundry.

So Goosey and I, with our faithful OJT's in tow, went racing down the hill towards the laundry gates.

Here's a problem. There are only three sets of keys for the laundry. One set stays with the officer and does not actually ever come inside the institution. One other set is down in the wobblehead house in a locked box that nobody is sure which keys will open. And you have to have the Captains permission to open that box even if you did know which key it was. The third set is locked in a sealed box in the Com Room. And again, you need the Captains approval to open that box.

There is only one officer and three or four civilians working in the laundry with well over a hundred inmates. If anything really bad ever went down in that place they would just be screwed because it takes too long to get hold of the keys to get in.

So we got to handle two lockups right before shift change, which is always nice. And I got to escort an inmate across the yard in the middle of count, which is a big no-no.

Not making a good impression on the new people, that's for sure.

And whoever made that stupid radio call/scream needs to be slapped.