Day 5

Day 5 - Monday

3:00 am

Breakfast again. The only thing special about this meal was that Tyrone was acting nervous. I felt the need to ask what the deal was. he told me that he had been in this place for thirty-something odd days and still hadn't seen a judge. He said that if he didn't see a judge soon (like around 40 days in) and get a sentence that they would have to release him. I found it funny that they would keep anyone in here for that long of a stint without seeing a judge. It seemed that he was close to getting released if they didn't send him away, thus his nervousness.

In any case, I just thought of the what-if scenario of me being in here for that long. I guess I would be itching to not see a judge too. However, sleep was more important to me at the moment. I said a little prayer for a bunch of things and fell to sleep again.

Noise. I have no idea what time it is, but I am woken up by one of the intercoms blasting my name in our block. I heard some of the inmates calling me out by my nickname. I had no idea what was going on. I looked down to question my two cellmates, but both Tyrone and Tony were gone. I guess Tyrone didn't escape the judges wrath, poor soul.

I asked a wandering fellow what was going on, he said something that blew my mind. "Your going home Cliff."

I had to rub my eyes. I didn't question anything, I just picked up all my junk (mat, pillow, razor, etc.) and ran downstairs. The cop by the cell door took a look at my badge and let me out. I stood in the middle of the multi-roomed cell and took a deep breath. Was I going home so early?

I waited there for what seemed like eternity. Apparently I wasn't the only one leaving, they started calling other peoples names and before I knew it there was like seven or so people out in the hall standing around like idiots. Thankfully I didn't have to carry all my junk, the made me toss all that stuff in some bin. I was back to the bear minimums, what I came into this place with. Everyone else had bags of candy and other things they had collected. Who cared about that crap, we were getting released!

Or so I thought at the time. Rather, that was what I was hoping. Little did I know that all this waiting around just meant I was being transferred. I guess they don't keep anyone in the same spot for a long time for a reason. This process of moving us around took at least two hours. Most of us got separated into different areas of the jail. not that I knew any of these people. It was just a long period of awkward silence.

Warning: Celebrity Sighting! That's right, I saw someone of certain status in this joint! The one, the only Nick Hogan. Ok, who really cares about Nick Hogan, but I found it funny that I was in the same jail that he was serving in for that stupid shit he did. I saw him when I was being transferred into my new area. I didn't talk to him, I just passed by. I think he was working or something, seemed busy.

Moving on.

My new place of rest. It was a building of some sort. Reminded me of a summer camp style bunking area. It was like a huge one story house. Instead of having mini semi-rooms, this place just had one big wide open area with bunk beds in every corner. The room I went to had to be right out of a boys N the hood sketch. Negros overfilled this place, most of the other folk in here, if they were white or anything else were old and scrawny. The blacks most definitely controlled this area. I don't want to say I was afraid of them; let's just say one of them was wearing a damn eye patch. Really?

Since this place was more closed off, and only had one story the noise was amplified to the tenth power. And here I thought the other place was a tad loud. I found an empty bunk in one of the end corners, top of course. At least this mat I picked up was a lot more comfortable then the last place, I just had to trade a quieter stall for a more comfortable sleeping area. Makes sense in this hell hole I guess. I quickly tried to fall sleep, but was woken up by one of the black guys underneath me.

He poked me and asked if I wanted a bottom bunk. That one of the guys was getting moved and a bottom bunk was going to be available. Oh hell yeah! I jumped on that shit with the quickness. It took some time to clean the place up, but bottom bunks were like the Rolls Royce of this place. Not only can hang covers around your area to make a tent like thing, but...well that's pretty much all you can do, but that's fucking awesome. Lights didn't matter anymore, I was in my own little Batcave in that piece. I felt like a little kid making a fort.

Also, by taking the bottom bunk when I had just arrived, it seemed that I had upset a lot of the people sleeping on top bunks for awhile. Uh oh...

10:00 am

I got situated just before lunch. Thank goodness, it was starving. Those bologna and cheese sandwiches never tasted so good.

Back in the C block there was more people coming and going. A couple of crackheads showed up. I was lucky enough to have them in my area. Me being one of the lighter skinned people in this place, they felt at ease with me? I dunno, but they were very talkative with me. One of them especially was a chatter box, and had the memory span of a goldfish. I felt bad, but I kept switching my story when I talked to him, and every time he seemed a little confused, but rolled with it. It was funny, you should have been there. In any case, it seemed I befriended him and a couple other honkies in the process. we all holed up in the same corner.

One was a dealer, a young person who liked the Mars Volta.

Another was an even younger person who had a problem with breaking into peoples cars and stealing stuff that wasn't his.

The crackhead I mentioned earlier, he was always talking about how proud he was of getting into fights in this place, and that he was always getting moved and how he knew this place front to back. Are those things to be proud of? I guess to a crackhead maybe. We formed an unholy white boy alliance for a little bit.

Whatever, it made the time go by quicker. We played spades and I even got to borrow some deodorant from these guys. Thank goodness, my arm pits smelled like sewer mold.

4:00 pm

Dinner time! Weeeeeeeeeeeee. The fearsome foursome sat together and made jokes about things, Nick Hogan was a topic we discussed. I mentioned I saw him. It seemed he was not liked in these confines, and that people thought very low of him. I guess that was why he was kept away form the general population. Being a celeb in jail can't be fun, unless your Martha Stewart.

We got back to our small apartment and watched some George Lopez for a little bit. Everyone loves George Lopez. The crackhead told me how he had this show on dvd. Good for him.

Another white boy came up to us. He called himself the master of this block or something. Like he had been in this particular room the longest. He wanted to lay spades, so all of us except the music dealer went and played with him. This kid thought he was hood. He had a headset on as he played cards with us and I guess was listening to a rap song of some sort. He started to bob his head and and flail his arms up like a ghetto gangster or something. The place erupted. By erupted I mean with laughter. All the black people in the room were watching him and were mocking and insulting him to his face. They would shout, "Word!" and other comments in his face and would mimic his mannerisms right back to him. The kid did his best to ignore him, I kinda felt bad for the kid.

Kinda.

I am not sure what we did for the rest of the day, but it was probably watch some court shows or the news. I will never understand the infatuation with court shows is. We are in jail, why do we want to see a show where a judge is going to fuck over someone else? Is that supposed to make me feel better?

At night, instead of calming down, this place got even louder. Me and my group got into a debated football conversation. They started to call me stat boy because whenever they had a question about anything, I had the answer. It got doubly bad when the Bucs or any other Florida team was mentioned. These debates would range into the early parts of the night. I got so mixed in and involved that I hadn't noticed the noise around me had subsided.

"Hey, Bucs Bonus. Shut the fuck up!" Came the voice of one of the black guys I guess trying to get some sleep now.

"Ask Stat Boy a question!" Came from another corner of the place. The place was starting to get loud again. They would repeat what someone else said and it would never get old, because each time it was said they would burst out laughing again.

"Hey, whose the starter for the Bucs?"

I knew what was coming, but I obliged, "Jeff Garcia." I said i a loud enough voice so whoever asked the question would hear me.

"Jeff Garcia he said!" Laughter. It was fucking def comedy jam up in this place. It was like Chris Tucker was on stage.

If I kept egging these people, I'd never get to sleep. I laid down in my dark comfortable sleeping area and looked up at the bunk for a long time. I had to be around one am or something, but I couldn't sleep. I resorted to my age old technique I used to use back when I had sleep anxiety; I started to recite rpgs story progression in my head. The hardest part was always picking the game. The game I used the most was Final Fantasy 4. I know that game like the back of my hand. this time the game I chose was Lufia. I got to Gades invasion before I finally lost track and fell asleep. Another successful trip down rpg memory lane.

Day five was over. Everything got flipped turned upside down on me today. I had to meet and greet new people. My comfort level was low, but I managed in the end. I just hoped that they wouldn't move me any more.