Thursday, September 15, 2011

At The Helm

Hey, at least I got my picture thingy back! Yay! Have no idea what that was all about.

Last night when I left work it was 74 outside and I came home and sat in front of my fan in shorts thinking it was mighty warm. Tonight when I left it was 52 and falling. I'm sitting here in sweats and thinking about putting another blanket on the bed.

Man, you can have this midwest weather.

So tonight I was kind of left in charge. That was scary. Sgt Puddle was off for training and everybody else was just ...... off. Of course, that's how I ended up there in the fishbowl in the first place, if you'll remember. There wasn't anybody left and I volunteered.

They gave me Sgt Loompa and Miz Chatters. He knows some about it (how to work the doors and gates) and she can run the desk about as good as I can. But since she is going to run the desk tomorrow I took it tonight. And every time something out of the routine happened they looked at me and said "What do we do?"

Well, how the snap do I know? I've only been up here about two weeks! Ummm.... Here, try this and see if it works. Okay. Cool!

I thought I had a handle on the 4:30 count until my first set of numbers came in. From the Hive. Crutch called and said "We got 152." I looked down at my paper and it said 150. Nope, try it again. Call me back. In the meantime I am feverishly checking my numbers and still coming up with 150.

They call back. Still 152. Oh snap. So I start going over their numbers. We found the problem pretty quickly. They had locked up one from 3 house and one from 10 house during the day (about 1:00pm) and never called and told anybody.

Okay, we can salvage this. Maybe. If both 3 and 10 house call in one short then even if my numbers are wrong, they still add up and we're good. Nobody missing.

They did and it was and it cleared and I went out to smoke and hyperventilate a little bit.

Right after that Peggy Sue stopped by and I got to vent and got another big squeezy hug and things were much better after that.

Until the comm room called up and said they were missing a radio. Searched everywhere. Under the desk. In the racks. In the repair piles. Nothing. tried to call the last person who signed it out but he wouldn't answer his phone. Sgt Loompa got on the phone and called every single person on the camp with a radio looking for it. No luck. And Meany was up in the comm room getting pretty aggravated.

The Captain had him and Growl both write paper on the search and turn it in. We never did find it. Hopefully it shows up again.

And I felt a little bit guilty because it was supposed to be my night in the comm room.

Just a little, though.

About one minute before 10:00 count Lt farmer calls me and says "We are moving an inmate from the wobblehead house up here. Don't call count until we get him moved."

Ooookayyyy.... now what?

Turns out he had a death in the family and they wanted him up there when they told him. It seems that the last time that happened he went a little ballistic. They wanted more big guys around him this time just in case.

In the mean time my phone is ringing off the hook. "Did you call count yet? Did I miss the call?"

"No, I haven't called it yet. Something is going on. I'll let you know." Click.

Ring! "Did you call count? I must have missed it!"

Etc. Etc. Etc.....

Oy freaking vey.

If they stick to the schedule, I will be on the yard for the next two days. I think I'll enjoy that. Somebody else can have those headaches for a couple of days. I'll just go back to being a front line grunt and let somebody else make the decisions. Yay!

Thursday is going to be Felt Hat Day. Oh yeah. I'm all into felt hats. Wish I could wear some of mine to work. My derby or the fedora. I just look awesome in hats. It's also going to be Greenpeace Day, International Day of Democracy and Day.

Look that one up!


  1. I recall someone asking you how you coped with such a stressful job and I think this is your "release", which is quite unlike the release I prefer when I am stressed out, but to each his own. :)

    There should be some written rule that if prisoners decide to kill one another, then that is OK by the rest of the population. I will never understand how criminals get almost as good benefits as the rest of us. I think if we all knew that going to jail was more like a Michael Vick Dog fight than a mini-vacation with thugs, people would be less inclined to commit the crime.

    safeword: quied

    Someone who lies, but does so quietly, such as a dishonest librarian.

  2. Glad you got your picture thingy to behave. Honestly, I think that sometimes Blogger just decides to have a hissy fit for no reason at all. If it were a person, it would be a borderline.

  3. That must be weird when you get extra numbers. Like someone snuck INTO the prison or something.

    (Spellcheck doesn't recognize "snuck"? Seriously!?)

    I like Scott's lying librarian...or, lybrarian. *har* *har*

    (Hmmm, guess spellcheck doesn't appreciate my humor either.)

  4. Scott- I have releases and releases, if you know what I mean. Different vents for different stressors. But yes, this is one of the ways I let the steam out.

    And I agree with you totally. Prison is far too easy as it stands and is no longer considered a punishment.

    Lolamouse- Some nights blogger needs a shot of Haldol in the butt.

    Bryan- For some reason they consider having too many just as bad as not having enough. I don't get that...

    And my spell checker must be half insane by now, I'm sure.