I was sitting in my cell talking to an inmate, when a young woman came in to see a psychiatrist. She told the woman she was talking to that she lived in H-POD, but would be becoming a Trustee and moving to G. She said first she had to do a deputy. This was my third visit to the jail and when I heard that my ears pepped up like a pitbull's. I thought to myself, "Did she say what I think she said?" I knew she had, because Trustees were the most empowered inmates in the jail. They hadn't done anything special to become a Trustee, just dropped a kite into the box. So, having to DO a deputy would seem fitting to be able to get so much power. In a place where sex reigns it's not very hard to believe.
Another way they make your living difficult is messing in your food. My food was presented inedible everyday. Lettuce was crushed between the sections, gravy smeared all over the tray with my vegetables crushed in with the lettuce. First, they said that's how the men stacked them. I had to get toilet paper and wipe down the tray before I ate. I never had those type of trays before. So, I knew my letter writing and attitude was the reason. I wouldn't have to write letters or have an attitude if they would just allow me to be me.
Brittney
I liked this Trustee at first. I never want to dislike a Trustee, because it's their job to stick my food through a slot. My door is always locked and I'm locked in. So if they spit in my food or something, I would be helpless to do anything about it. She became my Trustee after Shelly and Felicia left. She was 21 and had a great big butt and wore no underwear. She would bend down to get the trays and her pants would fall down and her big ass would pop right out of those pants. I never wanted her to serve my food, after the first time I saw that. Even when they weren't down, you could see her butt crack.
She would always look into my cell, because I never had a bunky. She was not happy with that and I got an uncomfortable feeling when I kept seeing her looking. She had a partner named Ann, and Ann wasn't allowed to serve certain inmates, and had to work on the lower level. I was stuck with Brittney who told me once that she was there to "mess" with me. After that, my trays would hit the floor. She and Ann would contrive to put spit or something in my food. When I saw them standing around where I couldn't see, I just wouldn't eat. They would be shocked that I even knew.
That's when I saw Beane running out the bubble to the food trays. When they find something that gets under your skin, they usually did that thing even more, and that became the cause of your attitude. So, when you wrote to a superior, they could count that behavior as who you are. Just like when Ms. Thomas came into the bubble after she'd left to tell the new deputies about how I was. It was a way to cause you to have problems with people, before you even had a chance to meet them. Systematically, making me a trouble maker. I had the chance to be bad, but I was also able to be nice if given the chance.
Melissa
I over heard Melissa's co-workers saying how lazy she was. She never did the tough work, but left it for them. Unlike Brittney, Melissa was involved with a high-ranking Sheriff's Deputy. She did whatever she wanted to do. She liked to look at me while I was in the shower and that's when we were cool. They stood near my door and said, "She's not special, when she's gone there'll be another." The new Brittany, was always upset with her work load and in a stir about Melissa's laziness. She decided to somehow start blaming me for something. One day, she walked up the stairs looking down at me saying with an attitude, "She has no idea who I am."
But I so know about her. When we were talking she told me all about herself. She had a nine year old daughter that she hadn't seen in years. She hadn't seen her in over three years. She didn't mind being in jail, because she had no place to go, but back on the streets. I asked her since she was getting out in January, she might get an early release and go home for Christmas. She told me she didn't want to leave jail. I heard that she is actually in Livingston County. That comes as no surprise to me, because Melissa was tired of being an addict on the street. The next stop for her will probably be prison.
These are the women who are key to the things they do to people like me in jail. Like Brittney, Melissa was turned into my worse nightmare. She had already started messing up my trays, and I had already found my first hair in my food. At the time, Van Lacker had her push my sandwiches under the door I was through. Plus, she had been spending a lot of time talking to Ms. A, before serving my food. On the next morning, when I pushed my morning tray on the floor, Melissa, not the deputy put me on bag nasties for the week. I was set to get off on that Saturday. On the Friday before, Melissa gave me a sour milk in my bag.
Needless to say, the next morning I threw toilet water on Melissa and the next day when I got milk for breakfast, I threw that on Melissa, too. The midnight deputy, a stud who took steroids and had a protruding neck threw milk all over my door. She was upset, because I called her a bulldagging, wanna be man. I explained to her that she would never be a man, and pouring milk on my door wouldn't make Melissa love her. Along with other expletives. She stood in the middle of the day room and made monkey noises and scratching her head like a monkey.
For some reason, gays believe that being gay is the same as being African-American...I find that strange.
Stay tuned for the end of this...
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