Commit a Crime, Win a Trip!

I was in jail overnight once. Actually it was a jail tour, where you get to sample several different cells in 4 different correctional facilities in 32 hours. In between there is a fun ride in a sort of armored truck, with little high-set windows. You get to see the roof tops of all the towns you pass. There’s a separate section where naughty prisoners have to ride by themselves, but I got to share with three others. One guy had been on the tour before…he could tell where we were just by the feel of the road, “Hexam Bridge coming up, then we turn left”…and he was always right.

That night I got to stay in a cell with the same 3 guys and they put us across from this dude who was up for murdering his girlfriend while she was starting her car at the mall…stabbed her in the throat. It was in all the papers, the trial was coming up and he was being transferred. The murderer guy was mad because we were keeping him awake so he and the Aboriginal guy who was in with us began a threatening match. I think the Aboriginal guy won, he was really funny anyway. I gave him my fruit cup from dinner. There was a TV bolted to the wall…they were showing Lethal Weapon 4. Nobody else found that ironic.

None of the other prisoners had done anything wrong, framed they assured me. Except the Aboriginal guy who was picked up for a kidnapping he had forgotten about…”oh yeah, must be that time I picked up that drug dealer who owed me money. I scared the shit out of him all night, then took him 40km into the bush and left him there. You reckon that’s what they mean?” He didn’t deny it, although he seemed astonished there should be such a fuss over it. I reckon he’s right.

At one of the other stops, a poor old man was in one group. That group was being transferred to new digs and they were asked to sign a form to say all their possessions were accounted for. The poor old guy, about 70, seemed lost and confused. “What do I do if something’s missing? Should I still fill out the form?” he kept asking guards. And sure enough when their stuff arrived, the old guy was missing his good suit jacket which he needed for court. He asked the guard about it and the guard said, yes it did seem to be missing…he would see about it. This seemed to satisfy the old man because suddenly he was standing straighter, looking clear of eye, and remarking to his companion “I lost that jacket 4 years ago, but I seen it was still on the list. Give me a smoke.”

Eventually I got bailed but by now I was 3 hours from home, so I had to wait for the wife to come and get me. The prison staff put me back in the little cell in the garage/receiving area by myself but they didn’t lock the door. I could just see the TV behind the reception counter and I watched The Simpsons and drank coffee while I waited.

Hours later, I was in my home, warm, smoking my medicine, sitting in the comfy chair watching the big TV, eating pizza. It was all a bit surreal, actually.