A southern sheriff's jail, part 2 of 2

Sheesh. Can you imagine having to do the full four years? Even now? Or especially now?

I don't sympathize much with real criminals who deserve to be behind bars, and should be there, but I cannot fathom essentially living in prison, for years at time, and for years of my life. It would seem to be literally not living, or might as well be.

 

I hate to suggest this, but I wonder if the "indigents" even mind this? I've heard of this being the case with jails before, and heard it argued that those taken to prison sometimes rather be there, anyway, with a "free" bed, meals and showers readily available.

 

Coulda had it worse.

 

I've also seen this hypothesis raised and because of Small Sample Size, can't really prove or disprove. There were two, perhaps three, inmates who didn't appear to have social connections outside of the jail or mentioned they were homeless and living in abandoned buildings when they were arrested. There are homeless in our county, but it isn't considered a rampant issue, like a large metro.

The overwhelming number of guys had someone -- wives, ex-wives, girlfriends, parents, children or friends on the outside -- that they called, wrote or videophoned with on a routine basis. They didn't appear to be satisfied with being there. Most were pretty frustrated with how slowly the justice system worked, and how miserable the conditions were.

In nearly every case, the people stuck in this infinite loop don't have the education to get stable jobs and/or they get involved in unstable relationships, which leads to this vicious (rather than viscous) cycle that is difficult for these guys to break without decent rehab, a jobs program or some support group that provides an alternative. This is basically all they know. One guy had spent every birthday from 15 to 30 (with one exception) in the Florida State Prison System.

They do their time and get clean or sober, but can't get a job because of their record, hang out with the people who got them into trouble the first time, spend whatever money they have foolishly on drugs/liquor and miss alimony, child care or court payments. Boom. They're back in jail and the cycle starts over. They live within a thin margin of error that we can't even fathom.

Thank God newspapers provided that cushion that allowed me to escape falling into a lifestyle where my whole existence teetered on whether I got Britney, Brittany or Britianie's name spelled right in the cutline.

 

HA! One free perk that I did NOT take advantage of in jail was "haircut night." (Otherwise known as "trustee with electric razor who only knows the skinhead cut." I'm ugly enough already with my pattern baldness, moles and sebaceous cysts. Gwen didn't need that additional shock!

 

For some people, they're in the system from the time they're little kids. It's all they know. Is there some security to being in jail? Possibly.

 

Years ago, I worked with a guy who did two years in a California gladiator school. He was a big, scary looking dude, about 6'3" and 240 or so — but seriously funny.

I never got the full story, but he nearly beat another guy to death in a fight and got those two years in prison. Inside, he joined the Brotherhood as a way to stay alive, got his prison tats and did his time.

He did tell the story of driving around one night with one of his buddies and getting into it with another driver. They're yelling Fuck You! at the guys in the other car, flipping them off and riding their ass until the other car pulled over. My co-worker and his friend got out, and they went to tongs, fists flying — but those other dudes were bigger and badder and kicking their asses, so co-worker and friend bailed, scared kinda shitless. He said they wound up with knots all over their faces and heads, broken noses and black eyes. "Dude, we got our asses kicked."

That was a job where we drank beer and smoked weed on our afternoon breaks, then went back to putting in screens and drapes at a new theater in Beaverton, Ore.