Life on Work Release

So it went for the next two weeks. I would get out of there at 8am and return by 9pm. The drill for release is that you have to bring your ID card up to the guard office one and a half hours before you need to go. Then they start calling out the 7am’s, the 8am’s etc. I never waited for them to call, I was usually up there by 7:30 ready to get out like a dog. Sometimes they would make the 7am releases clean up the bathrooms, or take out the trash. They would usually have a bed check between the 7am release and 8 am release. There was a certain amount of hazing encouraged, like a code red in the military. They guards would announce that there were people (usually men) missing from bed check and if they were accounted for it would only hold up the work release inmates. They would make sure to mention that it was the fault of fellow inmates and not the guards.

After release I would then hustle to my car, get home as fast as I could to clean up and maybe get 40 winks before going in to work. The nights were brutal cold and as stated before, not a lot to keep you warm. Many of the women were getting sick and I was so hoping I wouldn’t get sick.

When I would return between 8:30 and 9:00 pm I would have to wait outside the gates until the guards were good and ready to let us back in. It was very inconsistent and you never really knew how long you would have to stand out there. I made friends with a couple of the women on my schedule.

Wednesday and Thursdays were my two days in. I decided to sample the actual hot meal they served in the evening just so I could say I tried it. It was described as looking like diarrhea and vomit, but that was not really accurate. My first Thursday evening in there was refried beans that looked like refried beans, a roll, diced carrots, pineapple, and what looked like chicken pot pie without the crust. To me, and I don’t know if the same can be said for everyone, the best part of chicken pot pie is the crust. It all looked okay for prison food, and it was edible. The only thing I can really criticize about it was that it could have used a little garlic. I would eat as much as I could, then feed the rest to the two stray cats that hung around. They didn’t seem to mind the lack of seasonings.

I will admit, “Commissary” time was a treat. Even though I loathed giving money to Sherriff Joe and his retarded family you had to have something to tide you over until dinner. Many of the women would only eat out of the vending machines. Okay, so here’s the thing: tell me if this makes sense. You could buy a master combination padlock out of the machines where you could put it in a sock and beat someone to death, but you couldn’t bring in chapstick. Why? Well, because they sold chapstick in the vending machines. It’s all about the money, all the time.

Then there was a psych ward that looked down on the women’s yard. I would hear what sounded like drumming and I asked what it was. I was told it was the men in the towers. When they saw a woman walking by, they would start drumming on the windows. Whatever you do, don’t look up there! One day when I was granted the privilege to go out to the dirt parking lot and pick up trash, I asked the two male guards about who was housed in the towers? They couldn’t give me a definite answer; it was either psychiatric inmates, or just general evil men.

About the guards. It seemed that the male guards were far more human like than the females. There were some male guards who were total tools, but for the most part they were far nicer than the females. There was only one female guard who was pleasant, the rest were nasty, mean, bitter, harpies from hell. Most were fat, and ugly. I can’t imagine what kind of life they had that would cause them to feel like they had to wield power over others who cannot retaliate. How sad for them. All I could do was feel sorry for them and try to forgive them.

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