Apologies for this being delayed, I was going to post it the week after part one, but a lot has been happening that was time-sensitive (as tends to happen in an election year when we’re trotted out like a piece of meat before being shoved back in our dark corner of the world). I hope you enjoy part two:
You know how if you and your brother get into an argument or someone gives you some bad news, you can always find some space to cool off or collect your thoughts? Yeah, that’s seldom an option in here. Pretty much everything you do or experience comes with an audience.
Imagine it, you live in a two-man cell. You and your celly get along, but you're not close. You live as you’ve been assigned because the institution you’re in has made it policy to grant bottom bunks only to people with health issues or the semblance thereof. Never mind the social ramifications of splitting up long-time cellies that’ve lived together for over twenty years, DOC doesn’t care.
Now imagine your celly decides he doesn’t wanna go to work for two days. To do this, you have to do something called laying in. It’s a process where one declares they don’t feel good and are excused from all programming; however, they’re also confined to quarters for the duration of the lay-in... which is 24 hours. This is already an infringement on what little privacy you may have had and is beyond annoying when the reason for the lay-in is “just because”.
Now let’s say, you get some really bad news. Your recent appeal fell through, your wife filed for divorce, your kid was hurt at school, your dad started a Limp Bizkit cover band, whatever, it’s BAD and the one place you may have been able to find a few moments of privacy is now gone, inhabited by this dude you know, but aren’t about to confide in.
All you can do is swallow it and we know THAT’S not healthy. Your sullen silence is misconstrued as something your celly is responsible for and then HE gets an attitude. Which works wonders for YOUR attitude and the downward spiral ends in busted lips, hurt feelings, and likely, some seg time.
This kinda thing happens all the time and is completely avoidable. Having some place to go, just for a few minutes, or someone to talk to that you trust, would make all the difference.
You know what’s NOT avoidable? Bathroom business. Yeah, if you’re a shy pooper like Grandpa Rick, you’re gonna hate prison life. Nothing like having a guy in the stall next to you with serious movement issues every morning. Or sitting on the toilet with nothing but a dishrag of a curtain up while talking to staff about the game back in Walla Walla. Modesty? Ha! Pass me the toilet paper while I finish making this cup of coffee.
It’s bizarre what you can get used to.
One of the hardest things is vigilance. Getting ready for a shower? Better make sure there’s no female staff walking around. Getting changed for a visit? Same.
Nudity of any sort is tantamount to a disaster of epic proportion should one slip up and not observe the vigilance rule. To be fair, there are people who will be creeps when a woman is around (we have our version of disgusting, unsolicited dick pics, too), but the vast majority of guys just wanna do their post-shower routine in peace. I’m not interested in flashing anyone, and no one’s looking for a sexual harassment infraction, that shit stays with you forever.
The baseline is this: Privacy is an incredibly rare commodity in prison and when you DO find it, it’s always fleeting or conditional and it’s never absolute. There is always a chance someone will walk by and glance in, or worse, invade your space with their own drama.
Maxwell had it right, I always feel like somebody’s watching me.