Well everybody, where do I start?
Basically I had "the sweetest deal" one could attain while in jail. I had cigarettes everyday, and because of the cigarettes I had more commissary than I'd ever need. I was at "the farm" which although it could be rough, was not bad at all compared to being in a two-man cell down in the belly of the beast at Main jail. I was well liked by all, and had achieved some small celebrity status due to this blog. On top of that I had the best job you could have at the farm and one month left to relax and get ready to leave.
That is until yesterday.
I came into work like any other day. For those of you who don't know I worked doing Bus Wash which means they drive us to Main everyday to wash buses and clean offices, and ultimately do nothing. We listen to the radio, drink bottled water, eat fast food, and smoke cigarettes all day. But anyway, we had just finished cleaning the office when a deputy calls me over and says to follow him inside. I think nothing of it of course, and follow him inside. I am taken to a little glass box with a window and deputies on the other side. They basically told me that due to my "growing celebrity status" as a result of my blog, they feel that it's in my best interest to put me into protective custody. I am eighty-sixed from the farm where I have been for three months and am perfectly happy.
Keep in mind that I have, to some degree, exposed procedures of the OCSD that could be used in a hurtful way by the wrong people. Although my intentions were in no way to exploit certain weaknesses or endanger myself or any other inmate, I inadvertently may have done just that. I never dreamed when I started writing this blog that it would eventually mean as much as it does to me. Or that as many people would be reading it as there are. Or that it very well might be used to potentially cause harm to me or others.
Now I don't personally see that type of thing happening, but it's always possible. And Orange County has to, as a precautionary measure, make sure I am in housing that puts me at less risk. But protective custody? That seems a little extreme to me. And luckily it seemed that way to the second deputy I spoke to.
For you who don't know, protective custody (PC) means a few things. You are given a blue wristband instead of a white or whatever other color, and you are kept separate from the general population. Blue banders are usually
- ex-gang members
- homosexuals or "alternate lifestyle"
- sex offenders, or
- snitches.
So it was agreed that I would be spared the horrible social scar that is protective custody and simply be moved to a quieter housing setting with less people there at the Main Jail. Of all things, a two-man cell.
Two-man cells are about 8'x 10', feature a small table/sitting area, a sink/toilet combo, and two concrete beds. You are in your cell for probably about 21-22 hours out of the day except for a "day room" period in the afternoon when you can use phones and shower, read the newspaper etc.
As a result of writing this blog I get the whole spectrum of the jail experience. I have never been in a two-man cell before, but for my last month I will be. As a safety measure. The deputies have said they wouldn't dream of asking me to stop writing, but to curtail some info and be more discreet as to certain details, such as specifics of where I am housed, other inmates personal info, and so on.
So here I am after about 20 hours in the loop. I am "suffering for my art" as a "jail celebrity" by spending my last month here in the belly of the beast at Main. Time passes a lot slower here, Two counts instead of five; a lot more time to sleep, read, reflect and write. Because I only have one month left y'all!
So just keep praying that being here doesn't make it seem any slower.
Send me some pictures everyone! I will write about the pictures I get here and we'll have a "best picture" contest or something. LOL. Keep praying, writing, and reading my blog. But most importantly, send money--wait--I mean most importantly: Keep counting! One month left!
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