"Inmates and staff have jobs that are related to each other much like that of Wiley Coyote and the sheepdog. They clock in, and they start fucking with each other."
The Curse of the Egg McMuffin
It was announced on the television news that the new
level of lower class is $820 bi-weekly. If you take home
more than that in a two-week period, you are middle class,
if you take home less, you are lower class. Perhaps our
union members should take their pay stubs with them when
they go to renegotiate our salaries. I wonder if those fi gures
include benefi ts.
Tom Twombley was an extremely retarded inmate. The
mental health folks claim he did not qualify for housing in
the Regional Center because his IQ was too high. That may
be true. His speech patterns made you think he was more
retarded than he actually was. Walker could communicate
with him well. It was actually a little scary.
"You do dirtwork! You dumb and stupey.not smart of
honor like me."
Walker is a young co-shirker who used to work for a
roofi ng company. His specialty was spraying polyurethane
foam on a fl at roof. A special skill he gained from this
experience was making bachelor furniture. Walker would
make molds out of cardboard, shaped like a piece of furniture
he wanted to place in his apartment. He would seal the
cardboard mold with masking tape, and then proceed to
fi ll the mold with polyurethane foam. It did not end there.
Walker would then cover the foam with used fabric from real
furniture to give it an honest, homelike touch. The furniture
never lasted very long, but it sure was easy to move.
Walker's specialty within the department was fucking
with people. He had a genetically built in game that helped
him fuck with inmates. Walker's twin brother worked for
the department over at the DEC, so every inmate that came
to NSP had met his twin. When inmates would inevitably
ask him if he had a brother or a twin, he had a variety of
replies.
"No, you probably just saw my doppelgänger."
"What's a doppelgänger? Sounds like a fancy name for
a penis."
"The term has come to refer to any double or look-alike
of a person, most commonly in reference to a so-called evil
twin."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"Sometimes the word is used to describe a phenomenon
where you catch your own image out of the corner of your
eye. In some traditions, seeing one's own doppelgänger is an
omen of death. A doppelgänger seen by friends or relatives
of a person may sometimes bring bad luck, or indicate an
approaching illness or health problem."
"Ooh.I don't feel so good."
Walker did not limit his games to inmates. He particularly
liked to screw with Caseworker Green.
Green was an odd one. He has a strange combination
of mild autism and turrets syndrome. His fi rst response to
any mistake or wrongdoing was to lie. Green was probably
beaten as a child.
With spoon in hand, Green climbs his chair.
"Did you forget something Green?"
Green realized that his food was still in the microwave.
"Oh, I was just adjusting the chair."
"Why can't you just admit that you forgot your food?"
Green is sort of self-winding.
"Something to say, Walker?" said Goben, "You have
that look."
"No Goben, just all this talk about fuckin' sisters and
the incest cases has me thinking."
"Are you telling us you want to fuck your sister?"
shouted Green, as he nervously looked at Goben, then back
at Walker.
"No Green, but.can you keep a secret?"
"Of course, Walker."
"Well, I sort of already did."
"What do you mean, you already did?"
"Well, Inmate Jones, he's in for fuckin' his sister. Maybe
I should be in jail too. Jones is a little different, because
he knew it was his sister. I guess she was on her knees
throwing up in the toilet during a party at a friend's house.
He went into the bathroom claiming he was going to help
her, but all he intended to do was help himself. He pulled
down her pants and panties, and just started railing her. At
least that's what this fi le says."
"Back up a minute, Walker. You just said you already
fucked your sister."
"It's a long story."
"We got a whole shift!"
An idea must have hatched in Walker's gourd because
he turned his back and scribbled out a note.
Walker handed Goben the note nonchalantly. It was
written on the back of a pass, and they hand those back and
forth regularly, so it did not raise any suspicion. He allowed
Goben time to read before he began.
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"Once when I was still in college, I was dating this gal.
I initially gained interest because she was like molten-lava
hot, but then I realized that we had something in common
as well. Not really something in common, but a history in
common. That's probably not accurate either. Her mother
was one of my instructor's, and both of her parents knew
my parents. Apparently our fathers once worked together
back in the late 60s, or early 70s, and had kept in touch
since then. We began dating and hit it off great. We went
together like peas and carrots as Forrest Gump would say. It
took longer than I wanted, probably because I was falling in
love for real, but after about a week, we were screwing like
crazy. I wanted to pee in her butt, but I am not sure if my
urethra would expand enough to release urine in such a tight
spot under erect circumstances. She was the most amazing
sex I've ever had. In fact, when I have sex now, I visualize
her. We dated for about fi ve months before it donned on
her to tell her mother. I wasn't about to mention it in class,
so time went on. I must have fucked her 200 times in that
time frame, in about every way imaginable.
The plan was to invite her mother over to meet the "new boyfriend" without telling her who it was. We were both hoping the surprise would be a pleasant one. You know, like a "meant to be" hopeful surprise. Her Mom arrived with a pan of cherry cheesecake in hand to add to the dinner we were about to consume. She saw me and the blood ran from her face. The smile simultaneously vanished and was replaced with a look of sheer horror. Neither Drill Instructors nor Godzilla had this impact. Her mouth dropped open as she lost control of the dessert dish."
"Oh my God, please tell me you aren't having sex."
"Mom! What would make you say such a thing?"
"Sarah, that is your brother."
I instantly noticed the family resemblance. How could
it be?
"Mom, what the hell are you talking about?"
"Remember how I know Earl?"
"Yah, Mom, you teach one of his classes."
"I used to baby sit for his folks when I was in college? I
had an affair with his father." She pointed at me as if I was
my father. "He is the reason your Dad and I divorced years
ago. I had you nine months later. You can't see each other
anymore. Do you understand? You have the same father.
Your children could be severely retarded."
"So that was the end of the relationship with my sister.
We kept in touch after that, but we knew deep in our hearts
that we could not continue. It would be too tempting.
We were that in tune with each other's sexual needs and
desires."
Green just sat there, dumbfounded. For the fi rst time in
his life, he was completely speechless.
Caseworker Earl Walker went on a travel order at 10 a.m.
that morning, just halfway into our shift. He anticipated
returning at approximately 1:30 that afternoon. At roughly
noon, Caseworker Bert Goben, gave me an awkward look,
and unrolled the McDonald's bag Walker had left behind on
the counter. Goben was setting me up. The white paper bag
contained a cold Egg McMuffin.
At 1300 hours I rechecked the bag. The cold treat was
still there. At 1340, I could not take it anymore. We would
be at the end of our shift in 20 minutes. The thought of
the sandwich going to waste made me exceedingly hungry.
I threw it in the microwave for 30 seconds, and then 10
more. The McMuffin lasted about half of that nuke time
in my hands. It tasted great, but it was not worth it. I
kept watching the door thinking Walker would walk in, and
Goben added to that misery by making me think he kept
arriving. I wound up leaving the unit without remembering
to pack my half-pound bag of sunfl ower seeds.
I showed up the following morning, and the seeds were
gone. We all know you can not leave unmarked food items
in the control station for one shift, let alone two. Hell, if it is
sunfl ower seeds, you can not even leave them around if your
name is on them. I offered to pay Walker for the sandwich
the following morning, but he refused, claiming he would
have just thrown it away anyhow, and he was just glad that
it did not go to waste.
Goben pissed me off so bad, I rubbed a cologne
advertisement on his sleeve. It really makes the spouses
suspicious (and we really need that).