There are times when working at the prison can get to be downright surreal.
Yesterday day I inadvertently caused three of my workers to stage a mini revolt.
Most of the time my workers just do whatever I say, it’s part of the prison experience. They are used to accepting orders and just following them. So aside from grumbling and making snarky responses, doing what I say seems to be almost a reflex for them.
It has taken me months of time for them to relate to me as a person and not a dictator.
I have made much progress, my breaking the ice so to speak came, the day I fired one of them for doing something stupid.
And in the middle of the grumbling and head shaking the alpha prisoner, noticing someone walking up behind me as I stood in a doorway, reached out and touched my arm and said “watch yourself.”
I noticed the pretty and very pregnant medical adding waddling along and moved out of her way. At the same time looked at him and asked,”What”?
He looked at me with something that made it look like he was either suffering some kind of mental strain, or passing some particularly bad smelling gas. “Watch you, sir”?
Mr Adams I started two things
A.don’t call me sir I work for a living.
This cause the first smile I had even seen from him.
B. I went on with a straight face.”I have no intention now , nor will I even the slightest desire to show you what I am in fact working with.”
Watching him do the mental translation of my more proper English of the lyrics to a mystical song, I could see the words registering and he laughed loudly and for a while.
The second time things changed was when one of my workers after getting some bad news from his baby mommy, suggested that I go preform an act on myself that if it were possible, would let’s face it lead to me Never leaving the house again except for food.
What, happened was, I,asked him to go clean, something, and he then suggested in a stream of profanity that I go do something instead.
I responded with something flippant , and then rather more forcefully asked him to go clean something.
Maybe it was my stern tone or maybe he just realised he had just done something that, would earn him a rules, violation, and possibly his job, his face changed and he almost ran to go do what I asked.
Everyone on the crew thought I was going to fire the guy for his outburst, so when he came to me just before we were done for the day, and asked So you gonna fire me and take my work card?
I turned to him and said “Why what the hell did you do ?”
He looked at me with confusion and said something about what, he had said earlier.
I stared and him for a second and then used my newest catch phrase, go clean something.
So like I said its been a while and I expect that mostly we will be able to function fairly well. So for all of them to be in an uproar was a bit of a surprise.
Maybe I should describe my crew.
Up until last week I had a six foot three transgender guy with boobs bigger than my head, and the tendency to lisp a little, With his gold grill and say things like pacific, when he means specific.
But with his departure, my crew now is One semi man down.
Now I just have
The angry Black man.
He has been down for thirty years, has read a dozen or so books a year since he has been down, but often makes long convoluted statements about things like the theory-o-holistic method of belief of the underlying Statement that lead to my life crime.
and has an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the lyrics of Tupac.
The crazy white guy.
There is a crazy guy who, before the drugs and the stupidness, was a Hollywood extra.
He will happily tell you how, many,minutes into tango and cash his small part is.
And that you can look him up by his stage name in theS.A.G directory.
The black guy who carries a small white dental pic in his mouth 24/7 and far from impending his speech it seems to make it easier to understand him.
He tends to whine a lot and can always be counted on to at any point, to lay out my faults and voice his agreement that it’s my fault.
Regardless of the other person is talking about.
Half the time someone on the crew will make some kind of statement, and mush mouth will whole hardly agree that it’s my fault, which often Leeds to me staring at him.
Because they were talking about something that had nothing to do with me.
Then there is the bank robber who makes everything a metaphor about either robbing banks or cars.
I frequently point out to him that I don’t know, much about how my car works, nor do I care overly much.
And the most about bank robbing I know is from watching Deniro in the movie Heat.
And last but not least is our lead man, for whom the name white trash was coined.
From his constant referenced to his not being racist despite his ideas being of an,almost completely racist bent, to his slightly blurry tattoos on his neck and both arms, to his many story’s that invariably end with one of three things.
The phrase doing a bitch.
Or the words so this black guy. And what follows being an almost legendary level of stupidity, and wich ends with him doing time.
On a side note, if you are telling a story and you use the phrase, Doing a bitch, This makes you a bad person.
If the person listening to the story can not honestly tell if you were meaning to have sex with her, or kill her, That still makes you a bad person and a scary one at that.
So long story short, my entire crew of not quite A team members, stages a mini revolt.
I am sitting in the secure inmate waiting room, and listening to each of them as they try, and express why they are unhappy, with me.
After being able to filter out the f-bombs, and words like cracker ass, and snitch.
It becomes clear that the reason they are pissed is that I asked one of them if his, sinuses were messed up?
This seems like a strange reason for them to be pissed at me.
Thinking back to earlier that day I could easily remember when it had happened.
The angry black man had just lifted the office chair of the doctors office he was cleaning.
He leaned far over and breached in,harshly,and forcefully as he used his arms to hoist the chair so that his biceps bulges and he held the chair in front of his face and walked towards the door.
Which is when I asked if his sinus were acting up?
So sitting there in that little room with its good acoustics listening to my crew Complaint I realised they were not breathing out, they were breathing in the smell of the seats of the female doctors and techs.
Listening to them demand that I not take this away from them by not keeping my, fat bucket head mouth closed.
I realised not for the first time.
My life is weird.