by Brian A. Wilkins
This day corresponds with Friday, August 22.
I could kind of feel my body starting to stiffen; starting to expect very little movement, thus I’d get a lot of cramps and would crack a lot when I moved around. So much for all that temporary giddiness I had yesterday. I thought the judge would rule on it quickly but I guess he has 15 days to do it. And I’m not sure if I’ll have to actually go to court for it. I thought a ruling might be done on this thing by today, meaning I would get out of here in time for my final semester which starts on Monday and for my two fantasy football drafts. None of that is going to happen now. I have a buttload of bills to pay too on September 1; which are going to wipe me completely out. September will be the last month I can pay rent; then I lose everything I own. Guess that’s the final garnish on destroying people through this system.
I had to get out of the cell, thinking I wasn’t stable enough to be up there by myself; and Rodney was going through that medical rigamarole all morning. As I was sitting down in the main area watching some stupid show on the Discovery Channel, this “kinfolk” guy freaked out in his cell on the top tier. He had already been locked in, so he started kicking the door really hard and throwing things at it. He was yelling all kinds of stuff at the D.O.’s outside his cell: “bitch-ass toy cop! you failed the real police academy; that’s why you’re here, rent-a-cop!” I found out later in the day, the brother’s mom had come to visit him. He was on his way to prison for 4 years and would not be allowed any visitors for his first 4 months in there. That G.I. Joe guy I filed the grievance against apparently did not tell the guy his mother was waiting for him in the visiting room, and the 30 minutes alloted for the visit had elapsed. Usually the guards announce over the loud speaker you have a visitor or they call you on the intercom in your cell; the G.I. Joe guy did neither for this kid. No wonder he freaked out. Why they did that to him is just beyond human decency. It just seems like no matter what level of cop you are, it must be a requirement to fuck with “black” people. Don’t get me wrong; there are several guards here simply doing their jobs, but several more who are just so juvenile and evil-hearted.
I think the Democratic Convention is next week too…wonder who Obama will pick as a running mate. I assume McCain will pick the governor of Louisiana (Jindal I think his name is) or that Minnesota guy. Though I’ll have to take it to the grave, Rodney and I have been talking about a “master plan.” It all sounds really good and workable, but it all depends on me getting out of here. We would be able to fix both of our lives and at the same time, right any wrongs that may have allegedly been done in the process. We’ll know things are going to be ok the day we can have a beer together without a toilet being within four feet of where we sit. I just don’t think I’ll make it to that point. Every Friday in here, I have to concede I’ll be here for at least three more days…since courts aren’t open on Saturday or Sunday, thus no movement in a case can happen. I’m preparing to sleep for at least 38 of the next 48 hours. And hopefully dream of the master plan actually working.
Note: Rodney and I did have that aforementioned beer in late October. With me being unemployed, on the verge of eviction, and broke; and him being on house arrest, unemployed with an ankle monitor on, it wasn’t as cool as we thought it would be.