My Own Kind of Time

Chapter 1

There are many things you can not do within the confi nes of the Department of Corrections, but one stands out above all. You can not tell a secret and expect it to remain one. Confi dentiality does not exist. You can not tell a story to anybody, not inmate or staff. There can be a benefi t to this. If there is some news that you want to get out, or a rumor that you want to spread, the grapevine will ensure that it happens instantaneously.

That said, I have to tell you about the exception. There is an exception to every rule. Greg Radden (Why yes, he is a Marine as well.) or, by his nick-name, G-Rad, will keep your secrets, and it will not cost you, particularly if you know where the bodies are buried. G-Rad is my sanity. G-Rad is my bowling team buddy. Those of you who know him are really questioning me at this point, saying, "G-Rad is crazier than a shit-house rat!" That may be true, but he brings calm to my life in time of great need. Many nights I have slept on his couch in a Morgan induced stupor having benefi ted from his counsel.

Does God test us, or does He give us opportunities to shine? He knows our destiny, yet gives us free will. If He is the one laying out the obstacles, I wish He would quit already. I must be pretty damn special for Him to give me this much attention. Should God have limited the degree of suffering allowed? Evil is required for good to have value. It must be compared to show contrast. Human freewill makes it worse.

I am a Marine, and have been since the day I graduated Marine Corps Basic Training in the summer of 1982. The recruiter guaranteed me I could book a threesome for 40 American dollars in Olongapo. I had just turned 18 and had never had sex unless you count the six hand-jobs in the front seat, and three incomplete blow-jobs in the back seat. I was sold. Gunny was the best Marine, and I wanted to be just like him. He could list from memory the price of a whore in Kailua, Okinawa, Cherry Point, and Amsterdam. On a really good day, he could tell you what bar to fi nd them in. I currently work for the Department of Correctional Services, and you never saw odd people in your life until you come to work for corrections. It seems that all the freaks of nature that nobody else wants to be seen in their establishments come to work for corrections. You say you have never seen really fuckin' weird deformed people?

Come check us out at shift change. Paul Harvey was right when he was quoted as saying, "If you really want to see the scum of the earth, sit in the parking lot of a penitentiary at shift change." We are just a bunch of societal rejects.

Do you remember the movie, Air America? Robert Downey Jr. says something like, "I'm used to being the weirdest person in the room, but here, I'm not even in the running." That is how I feel working for the department. By these standards, I am completely fucking normal.

My name is Charlie Mount. Friends call me Count, and now that includes you, because I can use all the friends I can get. At my age, I am becoming lactose intolerant. Instead of trying Beano, I eat a lot of yogurt and cheese, and I drink lots of milk. It brings me no pain, just a lot of gas. I have complete disregard for the rest of humanity. I can practically shit myself on command. If they ever invent a hybrid car that runs on methane, all I need is the proper fi ttings from my ass to the fuel intake and I can drive free forever. My friends used to think my explosive nature was funny, but for some reason it stopped amusing everybody but G-Rad. Now I feel like I have to save them for him, unless I really want to get rid of somebody.

I live out in the sticks, just north of Greenville. Making it to work on time requires that I get up early. The time stamp when the alarm goes off indicates 4:00 a.m., which is stupid o'clock in the morning. Driving to work usually has me thinking about making better use of my time, and then, somewhere between Exit 379 and 397, with my dick in my hand, I realized that I am not making good time. Once you get off on the Homestead Expressway, it is still a six-minute trip to the NSP parking lot.

My wife and I fi ght a lot. We just do not understand each other. I tried to work at it once, but it was just too much work. Now I just ignore her, and do my own thing. One time, I thought I would play on her sympathies and pretend to have a bad reaction to a military fl ashback/dream. I rolled off the bed, and yelled, "Take cover!" She simply replied, "Oh, isn't that cute, you're at war." When I talk about it at work, some of my holy-roller co-workers do not think I have been very nice to my wife. I am over it already. G-Rad says, "Welcome to the real world, Jarhead."

It had to be that the fi rst guy to ever eat a pussy had one that smelled like tuna. Personally, I have never licked one that did, and I have had quite a sampling. I have three girlfriends that live right here in Lincoln, and another that lives on the way home in Greenville. A fi fth girlfriend, that lives just west of Lincoln, in Burriell, is a little out of the way. She will meet me in Lincoln (or anywhere) to hook up. I try to avoid Lincoln, for fear of bumping into one of the three pieces of patch that already live there. Multiple girlfriends are trouble waiting to happen. I try to pre-plan my strange appointments prior to leaving work. There is no "out-line" to make personal phone calls, so I just use the legal phone.

"Operator."
"Hey, Chan, this is Charlie Mount out in housing unit seven. How are you today?"
"Better than I deserve."
"Outstanding! I have to remember that line."
"Need a legal call, Count?"
"Yes please, 402-367-2038."
"There you go, dialing now."
"Thanks Chan."
.phone ringing.
"Shuster and Foster attorneys, this is Sabrina."
"Hey honey, it's me, Charlie."
"Oh, sweety, I'm so glad it's you. I am aching for you, and I've had a tough day. Do you think you can come by after work on your way home? I'll leave early." "Sure, but I can only stay about 20 minutes. I have to get home quickly and put the dogs out."
"That's okay, I'll just make sure I'm not wearing much when you arrive. That'll save some time."
"Great, see you at about 2:30 then."
"Okay, love you Charlie."
"Me too Babe. Bye."
I do not have any dogs.

Now I am ready to start the afternoon off right. My wood is beginning to chub. Maybe I should rub one out before I leave work. G-Rad says, "Never go hunting with a loaded weapon." I have got to talk to him about rethinking that analogy.

"Who the hell were you talking to on the legal phone,"
one of my co-workers, Green, inquired. "I was setting up a legal call for an inmate."
"No you weren't."
"Yes, I was."
"Well, where is he?"
"Come on man, I was just making a personal call."
"You can't do that from work."
"I call my girlfriend at work from here all the time."
"How do you do that?"
"She's a para-legal and answers the phone for a small law offi ce in Greenville. It's long distance, but the pen operator thinks I'm making a legal call for an inmate."
"Why does he think that?"
"Cause that's what I let him believe, dickhead! You gonna rat me out?"
"Not as long as you don't tell my wife I look at porn. I just wonder if I could pull that off."
"Do you have a girlfriend who works in a law offi ce?"
"No, but my wife can answer the phone as if she's in one."
"All the time?"
"We have caller-ID."
"Why would you want to call your wife anyway?"
"Because, we're in love."
"I don't think you could pull it off."
"Why?"
"Because you're a fuckin' dork."

My wife and I have a relationship much like Tony Dungy and Peyton Manning. We get along really well. Peyton knows that Tony is the coach, and therefore in charge of the team. Tony knows that Peyton is the real boss, and that he can call any play he damn well pleases. As long as they don't argue over leadership, they get more 'W's than 'L's. Who runs the show is about perspective. The league would tell you that Dungy is the man, even though they know better.

Dungy knows he better keep his pie-hole shut because he knows on which side his bread is buttered. Maybe I am getting more and more like Joe Paterno. Hell he doesn't even wear a headset anymore. Hell, who am I kidding? At least Joe Pa is a glorifi ed icon.

My wife accused me of cheating one time. Right then, at that point, my life was invalid. It started because she caught me putting in a chew.

"I thought you quit chewing."
"I did, but I like to dip when I mow the yard."
"You do realize that if the insurance company fi nds out, our rates will increase?"
"Come on honey, it only takes two weeks for the nicotine to get out of my system, and when will they ever test me again?"

"If you're lying about chewing, how do I know you're not lying about sleeping with other women?"
"Other women! Honey, not even Evil Kneivel could have made that leap."

That ended the accusations, but I am sure it did not end the suspicious thoughts. The biggest problem I have with Claire is that I can not share my successes with her. She reacts only with terse comments.

"Another one for the trophy case."
It makes me think that all we share are different disappointments. At least I have become a good liar. My biggest Christian challenge set before me by God: Forgiving those who do not deserve it.

My wife's challenge: Overcoming her envy of everybody who has something she does not. Her ferocious Catholic beliefs or the Catholic forbidding will prevent her from ever leaving or cheating on me.

Why should it be married with kids, or single with pussy galore? Why can a guy not have both (publicly without hiding)? Making the second choice is rarely reversible. If you leave your wife and kids to get multiple strange, you can not often change your mind.

Who asks permission? Who, in their right mind tells their wife, "Hey honey, I've been thinking about tappin' some strange because I'm not getting enough at home."
How would the wife react? We all know she will not say, "Oh.really.well, let me just give you all you need. Would you like your dick sucked as well?"

I just do not know how to talk to my wife about our relationship, and how unsatisfying it is. I really do love my wife, but for now, I am staying because of the kids. When the last one graduates, if things have not changed, I may be out the door, right behind them.

What are my alternatives?

Matthew Chapter 19
4And He answered and said to them, "Have you not read that He who made them at the beginning 'made them male and female.'
5"And said, 'For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one fl esh?'
6"So then, they are no longer two but one fl esh. Therefore what God has joined together, let not man separate."
7They said to Him, "Why then did Moses command to give a certifi cate of divorce, and to put her away?"
8He said to them, "Moses, because of the hardness of your hearts, permitted you to divorce your wives, but from the beginning it was not so."
9"And I say to you, whoever divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, and marries another, commits adultery; and whoever marries her who is divorced commits adultery."