It’s Friday night in Jail, and I’m sort of bummed out that I don’t have any plans or parties to attend. All of my friends are out there in the real world, on a college campus, having a blast, and I’m stuck in here: Jail!
I think I am just going to sit back and enjoy my weekend relaxing in this beautiful environment. (Can you sense my sarcastic tone?)
I was just getting situated in my bunk bed to begin this relaxing trip, when my cellmate, Ron, who the guys have nicknamed “squirrel master” started talking to me about some of his love interests and personal relationships in his past.
He’s been babbling on and on for the last hour about them and he won’t shut up! In fact, as I’m writing this right now, he is still talking to me! I do suppose I may have contributed to this mess, because I did offer him a “tall and strong” cup of coffee that has made him all wired and talkative.
Coffee sure is a powerful and valuable possession in here. It’s the only stimulant we have to entertain ourselves with in this soberly bland realms of jail. A strong cup of coffee is the best thing an incarcerated person can have inside these walls. In an incarcerated world completely full of crap, a cup of coffee is sometimes the only thing we have to stimulate our minds and make this environment a bit more bearable. No matter what the time is, a little shot of coffee can cure a drowsy-spell, or a boredom streak, and offer the mind a new wave of theoretical thoughtfulness in this empty, bland, and hopeless space.
The guard’s voice just came on over the intercom and called a friend’s name. (We almost never see the guards in this jail. It’s all brick walls, and one-way mirrors. They communicate to us through a hole in the door where they hand us our food trays and an intercom in the ceiling.)
It looks like one of my friend’s is moving on with his time, and he’s getting transferred to a work release unit in the jail where he can actually go outside during the day. Every time a man in jail get’s a little closer to the doorway out, that means he’s one day closer to going home. I try to act happy for friends when this happens, but part of my jealous heart wants them to stay and suffer with me. But I know these emotions are just jealousy because I want to go home too. It is time for him to move on closer to freedom, and I am grateful that his life is about to get a little better. He was a good friend to me.
Someday I hope I can move closer to freedom, but my time has not come yet. In fact, the jail door just opened and I am watching a new guy come into our unit to fill his place. I wonder what this new guy did? DWI? Drugs? Murder? You never know until you get to know them, but you know he did something wrong. That’s why we’re all here.
One of the guys were just joking with the new guy and asked him, “What did you do to get put in the sex offender dorm with the rest of us?” The guys eyes got pretty big. Haha.