Round 2
There was not a horrible reaction to the "Jail Journal," so Day 1 continued.
CO (corrections officer) Fowley went through the rules of the facility with Dave Vetter and I. He asked if we were ever in the military. We both have not been, which evidentially made it “more difficult” to explain the rules to us. I could tell by the perplexed look on his tiny noggin. “My rule is, you don’t get me in trouble and I don’t get you in trouble!” I see this as, “I do shit wrong all the time. Please don’t tell and I won’t be an overwhelming dick!” Seemed like he liked to call us “county property” and “inmates.” I think he was having rape fantasies. He also got great pleasure in repeatedly reminding us that if we left or tried to leave the facility, that is considered escape and we would either “wear a target on our back” or “ have a bullet in our spines!” OUCH! The military probably rejected this guy for being too much fun.
Mr. Personality released us and immediately the 30-60 day chairman wanted us to come with him to go through the rules and procedures. Let me interject that Dave Vetter and I are the only 10-day guys in this session, the rest of the inmates are 30-60 day treatment inmates. This is their ticket out of jail. They need to make progress and complete the program to be released. They resent us 10 dayers for not being at their level of criminality and for “just visiting” compared to them. Vetter was place in a room and this pushed one of the residents to move to another room. This guy would not stop bitching about this and gives Vetter repeated dirty looks as if Vetter had a choice of rooms.
Back to the tour that I started before. The chair walked us around and explained “off limits” to us in his monotone hill jack voice. Don’t get me wrong, he seemed like a nice dude, but he takes this duty to heart. Next, he sat us down and read the same rules to us that the CO read 10 minutes before. OK! OK! I GET THE FUCKING RULES! DO WHAT YOU ARE TOLD AND DON’T ESCAPE! We were assigned chores (I got 2nd floor bathrooms) and after a brief orientation from a counselor, we were free (so to say).
Asthma Problems:
I do not take my asthma lightly! I guess the justice system does not share my views. I called before I went, I asked repeatedly at the JC and twice at the Talbert House (Turning Point) to make sure my inhaler arrived to meet me. I was assured it would. My inquiries were answered with “wait until the nurse comes at chow time.” OK, she will bring it to me, no problem. The nurse comes and guess what. No inhaler, it was not even told to her to bring one even though I told many at the JC, including the medical personnel. She said she would bring one in the morning. This worried me a bit because I was kind of tight in the chest. That night I tried to sleep, but could not relax because my breathing had gotten tighter, probably due to the new and dusty environment. I sucked it up as long as possible, but I knew it would not improve. I made my way downstairs to see the CO and scared the b’jesus out of some chick in hot shorts standing outside of the CO’s office. Evidentially, the girl that was at the bus stop and all the inmates were hootin’ and hollarin’ at from the windows earlier was waiting for a cab. She darted into the office and let out a faint gasp when she saw me “descending upon her!” The CO rushed out to see what my problem was and informed me that I would have to go to medical at the JC. “My fiancé could not just run an inhaler up!” he explained. He was actually really nice about the ordeal. He told me to wait in my room, I waited for about an hour total.
The shuttle cam and they put me in, with cuffs on. The driver was a lad, younger than me, and was real cool. He put the air conditioner on to help me and continually asked if I was all right. We drove by the Kroger in E. Walnut Hills, which was all taped off because of a shooting. In the two days in here, I think I have seen that there have been 4 shootings in Cincy (probably average one per day for ten days). Shit ain’t good, more to come! So, I get to the JC and the transportation CO walks me to medical, talking about how his friend has asthma and that he understands the situation. They give me an inhaler, mine is still evidentially in property, and I hit the sweet sweet life sustainer. I had not been that tight when I walked into medical, probably because I was out of the “new” environment. One nurse measured my lung capacity; I was at 98%, 1% better than the transportation CO. The nurses, I think, thought I was faking. I was shuttled back to get my full four hours of sleep.
CO (corrections officer) Fowley went through the rules of the facility with Dave Vetter and I. He asked if we were ever in the military. We both have not been, which evidentially made it “more difficult” to explain the rules to us. I could tell by the perplexed look on his tiny noggin. “My rule is, you don’t get me in trouble and I don’t get you in trouble!” I see this as, “I do shit wrong all the time. Please don’t tell and I won’t be an overwhelming dick!” Seemed like he liked to call us “county property” and “inmates.” I think he was having rape fantasies. He also got great pleasure in repeatedly reminding us that if we left or tried to leave the facility, that is considered escape and we would either “wear a target on our back” or “ have a bullet in our spines!” OUCH! The military probably rejected this guy for being too much fun.
Mr. Personality released us and immediately the 30-60 day chairman wanted us to come with him to go through the rules and procedures. Let me interject that Dave Vetter and I are the only 10-day guys in this session, the rest of the inmates are 30-60 day treatment inmates. This is their ticket out of jail. They need to make progress and complete the program to be released. They resent us 10 dayers for not being at their level of criminality and for “just visiting” compared to them. Vetter was place in a room and this pushed one of the residents to move to another room. This guy would not stop bitching about this and gives Vetter repeated dirty looks as if Vetter had a choice of rooms.
Back to the tour that I started before. The chair walked us around and explained “off limits” to us in his monotone hill jack voice. Don’t get me wrong, he seemed like a nice dude, but he takes this duty to heart. Next, he sat us down and read the same rules to us that the CO read 10 minutes before. OK! OK! I GET THE FUCKING RULES! DO WHAT YOU ARE TOLD AND DON’T ESCAPE! We were assigned chores (I got 2nd floor bathrooms) and after a brief orientation from a counselor, we were free (so to say).
Asthma Problems:
I do not take my asthma lightly! I guess the justice system does not share my views. I called before I went, I asked repeatedly at the JC and twice at the Talbert House (Turning Point) to make sure my inhaler arrived to meet me. I was assured it would. My inquiries were answered with “wait until the nurse comes at chow time.” OK, she will bring it to me, no problem. The nurse comes and guess what. No inhaler, it was not even told to her to bring one even though I told many at the JC, including the medical personnel. She said she would bring one in the morning. This worried me a bit because I was kind of tight in the chest. That night I tried to sleep, but could not relax because my breathing had gotten tighter, probably due to the new and dusty environment. I sucked it up as long as possible, but I knew it would not improve. I made my way downstairs to see the CO and scared the b’jesus out of some chick in hot shorts standing outside of the CO’s office. Evidentially, the girl that was at the bus stop and all the inmates were hootin’ and hollarin’ at from the windows earlier was waiting for a cab. She darted into the office and let out a faint gasp when she saw me “descending upon her!” The CO rushed out to see what my problem was and informed me that I would have to go to medical at the JC. “My fiancé could not just run an inhaler up!” he explained. He was actually really nice about the ordeal. He told me to wait in my room, I waited for about an hour total.
The shuttle cam and they put me in, with cuffs on. The driver was a lad, younger than me, and was real cool. He put the air conditioner on to help me and continually asked if I was all right. We drove by the Kroger in E. Walnut Hills, which was all taped off because of a shooting. In the two days in here, I think I have seen that there have been 4 shootings in Cincy (probably average one per day for ten days). Shit ain’t good, more to come! So, I get to the JC and the transportation CO walks me to medical, talking about how his friend has asthma and that he understands the situation. They give me an inhaler, mine is still evidentially in property, and I hit the sweet sweet life sustainer. I had not been that tight when I walked into medical, probably because I was out of the “new” environment. One nurse measured my lung capacity; I was at 98%, 1% better than the transportation CO. The nurses, I think, thought I was faking. I was shuttled back to get my full four hours of sleep.
posted by ajparrillo at 7:22 AM
2 Comments:
"Now men I have just one thing to say, just to start to ignore any grief later on. Here at the Rock, we have two distinct rules: Number one, OBEY ALL RULES! Second, do NOT write on the walls...as it takes a lot of work...to erase writing...off of walls."
-Barney Fife
Keep posting the journal...I have nothing to comment on, but I'm reading....
Yes I watch Oz.
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