Think Before You Drink
A friend of mine has an impressive job with many responsibilities for an international corporation. This past fall she was the unfortunate recipient of a DUI - having received her first one over four and half years ago. I don't advocate drinking and driving but it seems to me there is a better way to solve this problem than the solution she describes below:
SO... i've been in for 3 days a'ready. going in tonite for 3 more, out on friday nite.. back in saturday for LAST three. thank Christ it will be finished. oh, and by the way, ignorance IS bliss. and anyone who ever said it's better to have loved than never loved at all and all that other horseshit doesn't know what they're talking about. i've determined that NOT KNOWING is better in all circumstances. wish i could've done the whole thing at once. the dread is giving me heart palpitations.
This is what I can look forward to:
Upon arrival you get a shitty outfit, plastic shoes, one cup, one bar of soap, one bottle of shampoo (brand "Maximum Security"--gotta love that one!), one plastic spork (recycled, of course) that you must wash and use for every meal, a small tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush, a small black comb like little boys used to have in their back pockets and one roll of toilet paper.
it was totally dehumanizing, even. i began to think of victims ofgenocide. a bit melodramatic, maybe. but it was THAT BAD.
you know how in the movies you see jail--there's a mattress, a pillow and the lights go out at nite - well, it's not like that. i slept on a concrete slab and the "mattress" is a 3" think piece of plastic covered foam. you get two sheets and a wool blanket. no pillow. and the lights stay on all nite long--just like the drunk tank. nice and bright. well, they dim slightly between the
hours of 11pm and 5am.
at 5, we wake for "breakfast." usually grits, slivers of potato, a slab of butter and two slices of bread. the cheapest bread ever, like wonderbread or something. then we clean. windex, pinesol, sweep, mop, scrub down showers, toilets, etc. in the common area and our rooms. there's 12 rooms and a common area that's open between 5am and 11pm. there are
books to read and magazines. books like, "Sara's Weave & Curl," "Project Chick," etc. and I'm not even kidding. i did read, "The Rescue" by Nicholas Sparks--a real page turner. ugh. there's a tv hanging from the ceiling, 2 payphones and 5 tables. all the furniture is steel--round tables with barstool-like seats around them. the first day, theytook our power away because someone left a newspaper and cup on top of one of the tables. no power only
means no tv and no phones. when someone pushed the button to ask why our power had been taken, a deputy blarred back, "the button is for important matters only. you crackheads don't need to push the button for petty bullshit."
inspection's at 8am. all "beds" made, everything wiped down, and no sleeping under the sheets until at least 6pm. lunch at noon. four more slices of bread, one slice of lunch meat (brown around the edges), rotting carrots and one slice of cheese. oh, and one very coveted pack of mayonnaise.
dinner at 5. four more slices of bread. gravy with unidentifiable objects floating about. it's not meat, not noodles, not pieces of fat, not sure what. .brown on one side, white on the other. . .mushy, witha side of jello and a vegetable. you know, like Real Value Green Beans or something. on the third day, dinner is a main course of all the shit you didn't eat
for the last three days served back up again with some brown beans and horsemeat. YUMMY.
there were all kinds in there. one woman in for onpayment of child support, another for "kicking an officer in the nuts," another for assault and battery,and driving on a suspended. all these ladies had more time to do than me, and one was pregnant. so, i'm quite fortunate.
so, there you have it. i cried a lot the first day, i wasn't sure i'd make it. but, the others reminded me how lucky i was that i was going home in 3 days. so, I decided to buck up and take it like a man.
when i called jay from jail, he hung up twice thinking i was a telemarketer. when i finally got through, so, feel free to pass along my experience to anyone contemplating getting behind the wheel after a few glasses of wine. just don't tell 'em it was me, because i'll deny it. this whole thing has been SO embarrasing, dd. telling someone you've been to jail around this town is like wearing the scarlet letter or something, a permanent stain, or that mark on the etch-a-sketch that just won't erase. ya' know?
This excerpt was copied from my email program with permission from the writer to share her story with whoever I thought would benefit.....
This is what I can look forward to:
Upon arrival you get a shitty outfit, plastic shoes, one cup, one bar of soap, one bottle of shampoo (brand "Maximum Security"--gotta love that one!), one plastic spork (recycled, of course) that you must wash and use for every meal, a small tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush, a small black comb like little boys used to have in their back pockets and one roll of toilet paper.
it was totally dehumanizing, even. i began to think of victims ofgenocide. a bit melodramatic, maybe. but it was THAT BAD.
you know how in the movies you see jail--there's a mattress, a pillow and the lights go out at nite - well, it's not like that. i slept on a concrete slab and the "mattress" is a 3" think piece of plastic covered foam. you get two sheets and a wool blanket. no pillow. and the lights stay on all nite long--just like the drunk tank. nice and bright. well, they dim slightly between the
hours of 11pm and 5am.
at 5, we wake for "breakfast." usually grits, slivers of potato, a slab of butter and two slices of bread. the cheapest bread ever, like wonderbread or something. then we clean. windex, pinesol, sweep, mop, scrub down showers, toilets, etc. in the common area and our rooms. there's 12 rooms and a common area that's open between 5am and 11pm. there are
books to read and magazines. books like, "Sara's Weave & Curl," "Project Chick," etc. and I'm not even kidding. i did read, "The Rescue" by Nicholas Sparks--a real page turner. ugh. there's a tv hanging from the ceiling, 2 payphones and 5 tables. all the furniture is steel--round tables with barstool-like seats around them. the first day, theytook our power away because someone left a newspaper and cup on top of one of the tables. no power only
means no tv and no phones. when someone pushed the button to ask why our power had been taken, a deputy blarred back, "the button is for important matters only. you crackheads don't need to push the button for petty bullshit."
inspection's at 8am. all "beds" made, everything wiped down, and no sleeping under the sheets until at least 6pm. lunch at noon. four more slices of bread, one slice of lunch meat (brown around the edges), rotting carrots and one slice of cheese. oh, and one very coveted pack of mayonnaise.
dinner at 5. four more slices of bread. gravy with unidentifiable objects floating about. it's not meat, not noodles, not pieces of fat, not sure what. .brown on one side, white on the other. . .mushy, witha side of jello and a vegetable. you know, like Real Value Green Beans or something. on the third day, dinner is a main course of all the shit you didn't eat
for the last three days served back up again with some brown beans and horsemeat. YUMMY.
there were all kinds in there. one woman in for onpayment of child support, another for "kicking an officer in the nuts," another for assault and battery,and driving on a suspended. all these ladies had more time to do than me, and one was pregnant. so, i'm quite fortunate.
so, there you have it. i cried a lot the first day, i wasn't sure i'd make it. but, the others reminded me how lucky i was that i was going home in 3 days. so, I decided to buck up and take it like a man.
when i called jay from jail, he hung up twice thinking i was a telemarketer. when i finally got through, so, feel free to pass along my experience to anyone contemplating getting behind the wheel after a few glasses of wine. just don't tell 'em it was me, because i'll deny it. this whole thing has been SO embarrasing, dd. telling someone you've been to jail around this town is like wearing the scarlet letter or something, a permanent stain, or that mark on the etch-a-sketch that just won't erase. ya' know?
This excerpt was copied from my email program with permission from the writer to share her story with whoever I thought would benefit.....
Labels: loose ends
posted by "" at 1/22/2008 02:19:00 AM
1 comments
