Just The facts, Ma'am...

The blog you have been reading is true. Only the names have been changed to protect my employment.

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"Dun-da-dun-dun-duuuuuuunnnnnnnn!"

This is Raccoon City. At any given time it houses around 1700+ inmates, 100-200 correctional officers and around a hundred psychologists, nurses, doctors, clerical staff, caseworkers and administrative personnel.

I work the evening watch out of central security. My watch captain is whoever happens to be there that night.

My name is Sgt Rev.

And I carry a badge.

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"Dun-da-dun-dun-duuuuuuunnnnnnnn!"

Okay, that was silly.

I've been asked several times in the last couple of months if I'm making all of this up. Just writing stories for my own amusement or for the edification or amusement of my readers.

As much as I hate to admit it..... I'm not making any of this stuff up. The average criminal class in this place is actually that lame.

Like I said once before, there are no Hannibal Lectors here. No Professor Moriarty's. Not a rocket surgeon in the bunch.

If you don't believe me, go to Bozo criminal Of The Day and look through some of their archives. Your average criminal has the intelligence of a rubber door stop or possibly a FOX news analyst.

There are people who work in Raccoon City with me that know I'm not making this stuff up. Sgt Drew, KP, Vinnie, Coup, TJ and others. They deal with the very same knuckleheads day in and day out just like I do.

They just don't write about it as much.

So the answer is: "Yes Virginia, there is a Raccoon City".

And I live in it five days a week. Doing twenty to life on the installment plan.

P.S. The Hive was pretty boring tonight so I had to fall back on my Plan B. Hence, this nonsense.

Tuesday is going to be National Popcorn Day and Child Labor Day, Inspire Your Heart With Art Day and Brandy Alexander Day.

Let the celebrations begin!

With A Concerned Look On My Face

One of the things I always hated seeing when I got in was all of the day shift Hive crew up in central doing paperwork. Especially when that was where I was headed.

Like today.

They said they had a double. They were taking an inmate out to put him on suicide watch and the cellie tried to push past the officers and run out of the cell. He got pushed rather firmly to the back of the cell while they took the one guy out. Not that big a deal.

Then when they tried to put the first guy in a suicide cell he bucked up and tried to fight and bite somebody and ended up getting sprayed.

Lovely.

Ran into Lt Strong and he was looking harassed. He said "I became shift commander in the middle of a bad count and then this happened! My day is going to last forever!"

I felt sorry for the guy. Bet he wished today that he'd stayed a Sergeant.

The house was full of utilities when we got down there, as they'd pulled everyone to do paperwork. They'd even pulled a caseworker to replace the Sergeant. Ten seconds after I walked into the office I was not happy. I could tell at a glance that my boards weren't right and the numbers were all messed up. That's bad.

A couple of them stayed to try and fix things and finally we just shooed them out and said "It's okay. We got this." and sent them home.

It took several phone calls and some heavy detective work to get all of our numbers straight enough to hope that count might clear. Luckily Stubby found one of our major errors and managed to clear it up. That one would have been hard to find without his help.

But it still took and hour to get things straight. First count cleared and we were on our way.

Later on in the evening Miz Goody came in and said the guy they had slammed earlier was complaining his hands were broken and wanted to see me. I'd seen him on the camera flapping his hands around so I was pretty sure they weren't broken, but I went anyway just to see what his deal was.

He proceeded to tell me the long sad tale of how they treated him mean ever since he got to this camp and wouldn't let him out of the Hive and when he tried to leave three officers jumped on him and strangled him and beat him up and broke his hands.

The whole time he's telling me this he's waving his hands around and wriggling his fingers to show me how broken they were. At one point he said they ripped "a big hunk of meat" out of his wrist. There might have been a scratch. I couldn't see very well. But he wasn't bleeding.

Then he said "They were beating me up and choking me and when I said they were hurting me they all said if I told anybody they would come back and do it again and call me a n*gger!"

"No! They didn't!" I tried my best to look astonished.

"They did, Sarge! They said if I told anybody they would beat me up again and call me a n*gger!"

"Well, that wasn't very nice of them ,was it?"

"No. I didn't like that at all."

I was starting to get an idea that this guy wasn't playing with a full set of hamsters in his wheel.

I stood there and listened to his tale of woe and all of his medical complaints with a look of real concern on my face until he finally wound down some. Then I told him to try and lay down and maybe get some sleep and that in the morning maybe they could put casts on his hands and maybe get him an aspirin or two.

That seemed to make him feel better and he went over and laid down on the slab, propped up against the heater and we didn't hear much out of him the rest of the night.

Then I went back in the office and slapped myself lightly on the forehead and said "Ay-yi-yi! What was I thinking?" If I'd have stayed out on the yard as a COI this would have been somebody else's problem!

Ah, well. I did it to myself and have nobody else to blame.

So. Saturday is going to be National Kazoo Day, Clash Day, Rattle Snake Round-Up Day and National Blueberry Pancake Day.

Sunday is going to be National Corn Chip Day, Curmudgeons Day, Freethinkers Day and National Puzzle Day.

Monday is going to be Escape Day (oh snap!), Inane Answering Machine Message Day, Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day and National Croissant Day.

I'll have butter on everything but the corn chips, thank you.

That Hat (Since Bryan Demanded It)

This is that hat. It's a Stratton brand felt "Sheriff" style hat. Except ours has a little thing in the front of the crown that holds a smaller version of our badge.

You can't see it real good in this picture, but the brim bends upwards all the way around. Just slightly. Alot of cops wear this style of hat. Either these or those flat brimmed "Trooper" style hats. I think the flat brimmed ones look even sillier but at least they don't collect so much water when it rains.

All I did with mine was bend down the brim in front about an inch. Maybe two. Not a whole lot. It doesn't take much. Then I wear it just slightly cocked over my right eye. Like some other famous studmuffin who seems to be fond of hats.

Not that I'm comparing myself to Harrison Ford. I'm just saying he has good taste in hats, too.

So anyway, it's just a slight alteration. Just enough to give it a bit of my own personal style.

And just enough to give them up at Central a case of the googly-moogly's. I don't care. We work in a prison, for goodness cakes. Get the frack over it.

So there it is. The Hat Explained.

Friday (back to the Hive again) is going to be Punch the Clock Day and Thomas Crapper Day (Oh, so fitting....), Auschwitz Liberation Day, Holocaust Remembrance Day, National Pre-School Fitness Day, Viet Nam Peace Day and Chocolate Cake Day.

That's alot to take in, I know. Start out slowly....

It Takes The Right Kind Of Guy

It takes the right kind of guy to pull off wearing a hat like that.

Some people just look awesome in hats and some don't. Luckily, I'm one of the ones that does.

In my mind, anyway.

The hats we wear as supervisors have this brim on it that curves up all the way around like a freaking salad bowl. Or one of those dishes that you can put chips all the way around the outside and the salsa in the middle.

They look just slightly ridiculous and if you keep them that way they tend to hold alot of water when it rains. I found that out in a hurry.

And no matter what they say, every single supervisor alters the brim of their hat slightly in their own way. Nobody leaves them like they came out of the box.

So I took a page out of Uncle T's playbook and bent the front of my brim slightly down. More like a fedora. Then I wear it slightly cocked over my right eye for that dashing rake.

It takes alot of work to get a quality felt hat to conform the way you want it to. A lot of bending and shaping and sometimes a bit of steaming to get them just right. Mine is still a work in progress.

I had it just about right when I came in the other day. I got called into the Lt's office and Captain Crane took one look at me and said a bad word. Then he said "If I'd have known you were going to wear your hat like that, I would have never promoted you! Dammit! I thought you were Uncle T!"

I just grinned and stuck my tongue out at him.

He curls the sides of his up and makes it look tall and skinny like him.

Now, I'm no Humphrey Bogart, but I do know how to wear a hat. And even if it's a bit contrary at times, I'm growing into this one whether they like it or not.

Besides, Uncle T is going to retire in a few years and somebody has to look this good after he's gone, right?

It was a fairly good day in the Hive so it didn't make me too grumpy. I survived. And I'll be back there again on Friday. Yayyy....

Thursday is going to be Australia Day, National Peanut Brittle Day, Toad Hollow Day Of Encouragement and National Pistachio Day.

Nuts!

They Really Are Listening!

There are signs up over all of the offender phones that state "ALL CALLS FROM THIS PHONE ARE SUBJECT TO MONITORING".

The offenders take no notice of the signs and say some of the stupidest things over the phones sometimes. Every now and then we get a call from some phone monitor saying "Go find offender such and such and lock him up under investigation. He's trying to arrange for drugs to be smuggled in. Or he's threatening someone or he's threatening suicide to his mother if she won't send him some money."

They are always so surprised when they get locked up. They never think that somebody actually listens to any of those calls.

One of the knuckleheads got grabbed up today, not long after he hung up the phone. Apparently he called his girlfriend and had an escape plan all laid out. He was going to fake some sort of serious illness to get sent out to the hospital and she was supposed to bring some guns and meet him there and he could get away.

Well, that didn't work. Someone else was listening.

The last time I saw him he was in the back of a state vehicle in full restraints including thumb cuffs, surrounded by six heavily armed transportation officers with bullet proof vests and they were off to drop him at the Maximum Security prison down the road.

And I'm sure the local PD would be making a visit to his girlfriends house real soon as well. Willing to bet her address would be changing fairly soon, too.

They don't look kindly on that sort of thing around these parts.

Those idiots really should learn to read the signs, don't you think?

I'm down in the Hive tomorrow and again on Friday. I'll probably be grumpy when I get home.

So Wednesday is going to be Opposite Day, A Room Of Ones Own Day, Macintosh Computer Day, World Leprosy Day and National Irish Coffee Day as well as Burns Night (which celebrates the poet Robert Burns, and not what you do accidentally with dinner).

I'll take the coffee. You can keep the leprosy, thank you.

Had To Lay Down The Law

Well, at least they didn't let me get bored tonight. Up in 10 house again. And there was no 30 house Sergeant so I got to cover both. One of the Substance Abuse Counselors caught an inmate smoking in the bathroom right before I got there, so I got to read a violation straight off the bat.

I should have seen the signs, I guess.

Not long after that an inmate came up to me and declared he wanted to got to the Hive for protective custody. Apparently he had gotten himself into debt with someone and was unable to pay so he was checking in.

**sigh** Made the calls and got his property packed and sent him on his way.

While that was going on someone called from 30 house and asked me to call or come over. When I get there, a gaggle of offenders were standing in front of the Sergeants office arguing and looking all sorts of pissed off.

It seemed that Kermit had found a broom and dustpan in one of the cells.

No big deal, right? We try to encourage cleanliness.

They had access to cleaning supplies but they were not allowed to keep them in their cells. They were only to use and put back. And apparently Kermit had issued a blanket warning to the room about this at the beginning of the month.

Now he was trying to give all six guys in the room extra duty work assignments for the infraction and they were all pissed off about it. And getting madder all the time, since Kermit isn't the easiest person in the world to have a conversation with.

So I stepped in and raised my hands for a little quiet. And I got it, amazingly enough.

"Okay guys, here's the deal. The broom was in your cell and you know it wasn't supposed to be there. You were supposed to return it when you were done. That's the rules."

"So what I want to know is, who brought the broom into the cell and left it there? We can settle this right here and now. Just man up and admit it and we'll deal with that person."

And all six of them stood there and stared at the floor like spoiled children and pouted.

I waited an entire minute, then looked at Kermit and said "Give them all extra duty. If they refuse, write each of them a violation and we'll go from there."

Well, they didn't like that decision one little bit. No sir. Several of them stomped off threatening to write complaints to the caseworker.

Like that scared me. Or Kermit. I think he gets a complaint a week, at least.

And to a man they refused the extra duty. So Kermit had to write six identical conduct violations. And he doesn't have any computer skills so he wrote them all out longhand.

So then I had to come back later and read all six of them to the offenders. Five of them refused to sign anything and gave me quite a bit of attitude but not enough to get locked up over. One was fairly polite and did sign his but still claimed he wasn't guilty.

I read the final violation at 9:55pm and just barely made it back over to 10 house in time for count.

And I was pretty happy when count cleared so I could go home again. I beat feet out of there just as fast as I could before something else happened.

Well, my first real attempt at some real sergeanting didn't go as well as I had planned.

But nobody got hurt and we all went home at the end of the night so it was okay after all.

Tuesday is going to be Eskimo Pie Patent Day, Belly Laugh Day, Beer Can Day, National Compliment Day, Talk Like A Grizzled Prospector Day and National Peanut Butter Day.

Exactly how does a grizzled prospector sound?

It Had It's Ups And Downs

My day didn't start off well at all. The National Weather Service was predicting that we might get anywhere from a tenth of an inch to up to a quarter of an inch of ice in the form of freezing rain between this afternoon and midnight.

And it started sprinkling right as I got to work. I had a feeling that I was going to be there a long time.

Then they started this new carp that if you come in and clear the metal detector then go back outside for any reason you have to clear it again. Meaning if you have already come in and got your keys and radio and all of the carp on then step out front to talk to somebody you have to take it all off again before they will let you back inside.

What the freaking snap?

I had to watch the control center while Sgt Banty was in a meeting with the major. No big deal. I went up and did an inventory and everything that was supposed to be there was there.

Then Weird calls me from the Comm Room and says a set of keys are missing. Not signed out. No key tabs. And he had shift change lined up at the door and didn't have time to look for them.

Aw........ fragsnaggle. Why me? I was just watching it for a minute.... Snap.

Start making calls trying to find out where the keys are and opening and closing doors for people who are impatient going in both directions. At one point the Chaplain was standing there tapping on my window giving me a snotty look because he wanted to leave. I came close to giving him something that would have gotten me a severe talking to later.

Sgt Strings volunteered to go help look for the keys and I almost kissed him. And then Banty came back from his meeting. I tossed the whole thing in his lap and beat feet. I was uncharacteristically pissed off and really needed to be somewhere else for a change.

Not sure exactly why, but I was. And there it was.

They sent me to 2 house with Doozey and Hayseed and The Guy Who Is So Irritating He Doesn't Get A Nickname, which didn't help elevate my mood any at all. Doozey and Hayseed are all right, but that guy..... Man, I don't know about him.

I spent alot of time outside either smoking or pretending to smoke just so I didn't have to be in there.

Stubby and Miz Twang called me later to see if I was all right. I'd calmed down a bit by then and actually managed a laugh or two. I appreciated that.

Doozey and Hayseed kept pointing silly remarks and little digs at The Irritating Guy then looking at me. Several times I had to shake my fist at Hayseed being The Guy's back to make him stop. He was going to get me to say some seriously un-sergeantly things if he wasn't careful.

I nearly bit a hole in my lip several times. Having fun at his expense is like trying to sandblast a saltine cracker. Takes no time or effort at all.

Things went fairly okay until the 10:00 count. They had a new procedure in place where each inmate has to come to the door of his cell and be identified and say his name and number before we can move on. It's not too difficult and only a little slower than the old way so it was no big deal.

We got our count done and called in about 10:25. I was supposed to get off at 10:30 but I was going to wait for count to clear before I left. So I sat and waited.

10:30

10:35

10:40

10:45

We start hearing radio traffic. Having the yards run their IP inspections again. Phone calls being made. Uh-oh....

10:50

Okay, this is getting ugly. We start discussing what would happen if someone was actually missing and what we would do.

10:55

Oh snap. We might not be going home tonight after all....

10:59 Count cleared!

You could hear a sigh of relief go up all over the whole camp. I packed up my stuff and left.

Just a little freezing rain had fallen. Just enough to cake over my truck windows nice and solid.

It took me twenty minutes of scraping my windows for my fifteen minute drive home. I burned more gas warming the thing up than I did going anywhere.

But I'm home and it's Friday and I'm done. Whew!

Here's the weekend lineup and I'm hauling my happy butt to bed.

Saturday: National Hugging Day, Fancy Rat And Mouse Day, Squirrel Appreciation Day and New England Clam Chowder Day.

Sunday: National Answer Your Cat's Question Day and National Blonde Brownie Day as well as Roe vs Wade Day.

Monday: National Handwriting Day, National Pie Day, and Measure Your Feet Day as well as Snowplow Mailbox Hockey Day.

Keep the celebrating calm, please. I'll be sleeping.