Just the other day it seemed, we had CO's running out of our ears. Today we were down to bare bones and we really needed the extra people.
I thought it was going to be an easy night, like last Friday when they sent me to 10 house. Lt Strong said "Go do the mail run, then go to 25 house. You'll have an easy night over there."
Well, the first part of that plan went well. I fiddle-fargled around until the mail was ready and loaded it up in the little golf cart and took my time driving around delivering the mail. Of course getting to use a cart that had both good acceleration and good brakes at the same time was so novel I couldn't but have fun cruising around on it. I'd haul my buns down the walk screaming "Get the frack out of the way!" and watch the inmates scatter.
25 house is usually a fairly fun place to work. Except for the inmates, anyway. But 25 is often referred to as the "Estrogen House" because of the mostly female staff there. If you are a guy, you can easily find yourself outnumbered in that house. It's mostly a fun place to work but it's also a real good place to keep your pie hole firmly shut.
I'm sure you married guys will know exactly what I mean.
The house usually runs with four or sometimes even five wing officers, a bubble officer and a Sergeant. Tonight when I got there Sgt Homer said "It was nice working with you!" and left. They had pulled him to the Hive to cover down there. That only left four of us in the house. One bubble and three wing.
Tilt had E-wing, up on the 4th floor. It's the smallest wing, only having 36 inmates but it's kind of isolated and the stairs are pretty steep so they always put one up there. I told him "If you have trouble with any of them, push them down the stairs first. That way I won't have to run up so many dang steps!"
I had C and D winds on the 2nd floor. 59 inmates in one wing and 60 in the other.
Ruger was in charge of A and B wings on the first floor with 60 apiece. He's a good cat. Been a CO for years and if you need to know anything about hunting, fishing, boats or guns, he's your man.
Ms Drawl was in the bubble. Ruger had just bid into the house a few months ago but Ms Drawl had been there forever and she knew the place like the back of her hand. She's a funny woman. Imagine Ellie May Clampett with that gawd awful drawl of hers. Give her Granny's temper and a laugh like Woody Woodpecker. That's her. Entertaining as heck. Just don't piss her off.
Since policy requires that we have two officers at each count, it went like this: I went up and helped Tilt count E-wing. Then he came down and helped me count C and D. Ruger went and counted A and B, then traded places in the bubble with Ms Drawl and she went and counted them again. It was a pain in the butt.
Things went along pretty smooth there for awhile until about an hour after the yards opened. I heard a call on the radio for Sgt Uncle Buck to send two officers to 3 house. That was an odd and sort of off call so I decided to walk down to the gate by the big yard just in case something kicked off. I thought if nothing else I could step out and help watch the yard.
Then out of the blue they call and close the yards. At about 7:00 pm. All of the inmates are pissed off and asking me questions. All I could say was "I aint got a clue, pal." We got the yards clear and everyone back inside and they called a name and number count, like somebody might be missing.
Oh snap, I hate it when they do that! But count cleared and they ended up locking a couple of them up from here and there. And even though we had almost an hour of sunlight left, they kept the yards closed.
Don't know why they did that, either. It's a mystery. Or maybe the Captain was tired of riding around on the cart and wanted to go inside for the rest of the night. I don't know.
We did our little count dance for the third time at 10 pm as usual and then we all went home.
For a night when I didn't really do all that much, I'm pooped. Of course I did have to trot up and down the stairs quite a bit. maybe that was it.
So let's look at the weekend. Saturday will be International Panic Day. I belive I'll stay at home for that one. Sunday is World Sauntering Day. No moseying allowed! And Monday will be Ice Cream Soda Day. I'll bring the straws!
Mann Tracht, Un Gott Lacht - *That's an old Yiddish proverb that some translate to this: "Man plans, God laughs." I have had many occasions in my life to use that quotation.* *Don't ...
3 days ago