Day 3

Saturday, March 8, 2025

It’s morning again.  There is a crow or some other squawking bird that wakes me up today.  Again, the light, the sun, is just starting to rise and illuminate my cell.  Yes, I’m still locked in a cell – 3 concrete walls painted institutional off white, the grey steel door and grey bunks.  Even the floor is grey.  And the stainless-steel sink/combination toilet without a toilet seat.  I have to sit on the rim.

This pen sucks.  The rubbery feel and movement make my writing so hard.  I have to think about each letter and write slowly and with precision.  The result doesn’t look like that.  Sorry.

I didn’t sleep well.  I think the chain gang work and being in the direct sun took a lot out of me.  I was awake when one of the flashlight cell checks happened.  I’m not sure if the guard caught I was awake or even cared.  I’m just a number here.  A count to be made.

I also couldn’t turn off my brain last night.  You know this is a running problem for me.  So many things I thought about from yesterday.  So many emotions from yesterday – wonder, anger, thankfulness, anxiety, surprise, more anger, appreciation, calm, centered.

I think I surprised everyone last night when I said good night in the rec room and started to head to my cell.  There were two guards at the bottom of the stairs, and they did a double take when I walked by and said good night.  I needed some time alone at that point.  One of the other inmates was kind enough to come by and tell me to get dressed again and come out front of the cell.  We had to line up just so they could tell us to go into our cells.  I was already there.

Toilets flushing.  More of us are awake.

A guard came by for me shortly after I woke up.  I spent the majority of the early and late morning on kitchen duty.  I am now the unofficial grill master.  This can be added to chain gang leader.  I know your thoughts since I never owned a grill and could never figure out how to start the grill by the community pool.

Luckily the grill was all hooked up and it was easy to start the heat.  The chef explained what needed to be done and kept checking on me.  I used all my knowledge and observations from Benihana and Teppan Grille to cook breakfast and the chicken for lunch.  Even the grill cleaning skills came into play. I left the grill better than I found it.

The grill offered me some nice conversations today.  The guard watching over me introduced himself to me (first guard to do that) and asked if it was OK to get to know me.  It was nice to be treated like an individual and not a number.  He was genuine.  The way he approached the conversation was professional but also kind.  He is still my guard and I’m the inmate.  It just proves the roles can be maintained and still act with professionalism.  Some of the guards think they need to be aloof or go out of their way to be rude. It must suck to live life that way.

I had a similar conversation while prepping lunch.  Again, a bright spot in an otherwise dreary existence.

It’s clear some of the inmates are determined to always be in trouble.  It just sucks the energy out.  It’s like a bad radio song on repeat.  Nothing I can do about it but try to stay clear and do my time until I’m released.

I still smell like bacon and chicken.  Despite wearing a hat at the grill, a fellow inmate told me I look like I got too much sun.

I decided to retreat to my cell and continue to write to you.  Funny to say I needed some down time and wanted to be alone with my thoughts.

There are clues that my guard contact from before my surrender may be here at the prison.  Who he is I still don’t know.  I thought maybe I had figured it out, but my initial thought was wrong according to another inmate.  I’m on to “suspect” #2, but who knows.

There’s a lot of activity in the rec room this afternoon.  Even some of the guards are there.  Things seem a little loser and more pleasant among everyone.  It’s a good feeling.  One of the more aloof guards even made a joke toward me.  Maybe he’s warming up.  Maybe I am, too.

Our kitchen and meal prep team got props from the kitchen guard today.  I guess my time prepping chicken and working the grill is appreciated.  Laughing, he said he didn’t want to see us back in his kitchen again.  It was a good-natured compliment.

One of the guards came to get me, shackled me up and then I got placed in the transport van from Thursday.  The guards said something about transferring us, but we just got here.  The van left with us in it and after maybe 30 minutes we were back.  I’m not sure what is happening.  I fell asleep in the van for a few minutes.  I don’t think I was the only one.

A good day today for the most part.

A rumor is circling about a pardon from the governor.  One can wish.  [COTG note: “You wish!!”]

As always, miss you.   S-

 

Epilogue

This was the last letter I wrote from my prison experience. The experience didn’t end there, as Sunday was still part of the roleplay for most of the day.  Once the roleplay ended in the afternoon we had time, guards and inmates, to hang out and socialize.  I never thought I would participate in such an experience and feel such a sense of community among 40+ men.  It was truly a special weekend, not just for the roleplay, but especially for the bonding that took place.  Personally, there were those who had my back in more ways than one.  Guys I just met but quickly figured me out and knew when something wasn’t right and immediately checked in on me.  The comment in the letter about the range of emotions was real. The emotions were very real. You can tell yourself logically something that is happening around you is safe and OK, but the adrenaline kicks in and your body tries to tell you something else.  The heart races faster.  The blood pressure rises. It’s noticeable to others.

The other aspect of the weekend that sticks with me is safety.  The organizers made sure to keep us all safe physically. This wasn’t just talk.  They had active processes in place 24 hours a day related to safety.  In addition, the participants kept an eye on each other.  Emotionally, there were more than a few of us that needed to be checked on from time to time.  Again, someone stepping in to make sure another participant was emotionally safe in that moment.  And finally, safe for all of us to explore this unique fetish of playing cops and robbers as adults.  No judgment.  Just support… and safety.

There are not enough words to say thank you to the men I spent the weekend with in prison.  Kind of strange to write that – but true, nonetheless.  If you are reading this, thank you!  S-

The end