"They are not in here for missing Sunday school."
Doors, Shanks, and Vent-Talk
A blind person might think that The Nebraska State
Penitentiary is the largest Junior High in the entire state
of Nebraska. There are no middle school aged children
in attendance, but every childish statement, and every
immature action could lead you to think differently.
"Gentlemen, be advised that approximately one minute
remains in the allotted time frame in which you will be
allowed to enter and/or exit the housing unit. When that
time expires, the running of doors will be complete, and
you will be required to remain outside, or in your cell with
your door secured."
That statement was not the scripted message we were
supposed to use. There was no prescribed verbiage even
suggested. But the control station offi cers at NSP enjoyed
contributing to the confusion of the inmates by using
language that was foreign to them, or just way above their
conception of normal vocabulary. I even heard one of them
add, "Follow that line of thinking until you can't answer
why anymore. When you can't answer why, that is the root
cause of the mishap."
A large offi cer, named Hejl (pronounced Hell), taters
for breakfast large, was patting down a line of inmates
passing through his area. His pat downs were thorough,
and he greeted each inmate with, "Have a nice day," upon
completion of his pat-down. After hearing this statement
about a dozen times, I stepped from hiding and watched the
remaining half-dozen pat-downs. When Hejl completed the
line, giving one last, "Have a nice day," I asked him,
"Why are you telling those inmates to have a nice
day?"
"Well I can't hardly tell 'em to fuck off, now can I?"
"Well, I wouldn't mind, but you'd sure collect a stack
of grievances. What would you do if you found something
good?"
"Fuck, I'd just throw it away. I hate doing the write-ups.
Besides, they weed each other out all by themselves."
"How do they do that?"
"Oh, they write snitch kites, plant shanks. That's all
shanks are really used for, most of the time."
"You mean they are manufactured just so they can be
planted on people you want to get rid of? Now why didn't I
think of that in high school?"
"It's a good way to send chimos to PC. The only thing
softer than this is Romper-Room."
A new co-worker, I will call him Johnson, and I were
discussing the fact that Hejl gets upset when I use his control
station bathroom to grow a tail because it always seem that
the timing is during his meal break.
"When you poop, is there an audio presentation? Do
you think the smell is leaking through the door like radioactive
waste, or is the impact on Hejl just psychological?"
Hejl used to work in the control station on third shift.
He had to leave due to embarrassment when he shit down
a chair. They had a fartin' contest and he shit up his back
all the way to his shoulder blades. They had to destroy the
chair. The stripe was like an ugly tie. Hejl covered it up by
trying to clean it, but the new white-bleach stripe only made
it more obvious. He wound up covering the entire chair in
plastic like it was quarantined.
Many inmates residing at the Nebraska State Penitentiary
should be residing at the Reg. That is not because they are
schizophrenic, but because they are fucking nut jobs. As
usual, we like to fuck with them.
Doug Hirter was a borderline regional-center inmate.
In fact, he went there when he left here, because he was a
chimo, and he needed to be re-evaluated. To begin with,
Hirter was severely retarded. The resident shrink told him
to clap when he heard the voices, to distract himself. He
would walk laps around the bay area, changing direction on
a whim, or special occasion, and when he would pass by the
control station, we would clap to help him out. He would
giggle and clap at the TV, grin and drool, and go on about
his daily routine.
Hirter claps to interrupt the voices in his head. He fi ghts
off the demon horde coming in through the window. He tried
to fi t his head between the bars. He is a great one to vent talk.
When in the hospital, the corporal was ordered to document
the time and number of claps that Hirter performed. Instead
of complying with the order and producing documentation,
he spoke to Hirter through the vents.
"Kill yourself.there's a sheet.you can't interrupt
me.this is the devil.just end it now. Kill yourself.kill
yourself! Drown in your toilet.you fuckin' chimo.do it
now.you don't deserve to live.it's not worth it anymore.
Oh.and tie you shoes."
A shank discovered in an empty locker. It is made of
plexi-glass and electrical tape, so it would not set off the
metal detector.