I stood center cell and shouted ‘Someone better move over!'” “You challenged the entire cell? What happened?” “Nothing. They went to sleep.”
“They ignored you?” “Contrary to popular opinion most prisoners aren’t interested in fighting, especially when they already have the bench.”
“What did you do?” “I got in line to call you on the pay phone.” “You sounded like you were fighting then.” “I don’t remember it that way.”
“Check your Twitter history. I tweeted everything like you asked.” I scroll back to check Regi’s posts. Browneyed Girl. Sweet Child ‘O Mine.
“If I didn’t have Arkaby I don’t know what I do.” Regi circles Body Parts R Us while tweeting. A “reverse Joker?” Ah here’s the phone fight!
Reading Regi’s tweets from yesterday reminds me of my time in the holding cell. I forgot standing in that long line to make my one call.
The one call rule wasn’t enforced by corrections cops. It was enforced by the other prisoners waiting their turn to call before lights out.
The length of your one call was determined by the quarters you had in your pockets after they confiscated your wallet and other belongings.
With no place to sit, I counted the quarters left in my pocket. Someone tapped me from behind. “Hey! Didn’t you used to be a cop?” he said.
“Criticize me all you want. I get the job done.” He was big and broad and he wasn’t interested in making a new friend. “Who wants to know?”
Several detainees raised their hands. “I’m not a cop anymore. Did I put any of you behind bars?” Everyone looked away or dropped his head.
Big Guy said “Take it easy ‘Not a cop anymore.’ We’re not here to cast stones. Bygones. We just wonder what brings you to our humble abode.”
“Why am I here?” I looked around the cell crowded with recumbent detainees, a single commode/sink and one pay phone. “Vengeance.” I said.
They all moved away a little. Big Guy said “Payback? Against who?” “Against me.” They retreated a bit further. “You busted yourself?”
“Huh?” “You are hardcore! How did you do it? Was it a clash of wills? Did you make yourself suffer? How did you overcome your resistance?”
“I can’t take credit for my apprehension.” “You’re too modest!” “Really. This is all payback by my former boss to justify HIS apprehension.”
After a silent moment Big Guy said “Wait. What?” Another detainee asked “You’re the new boss, same as the old boss? That’s fucked up, man.”
I said “You got it wrong. I’m no boss. I didn’t put myself in here. I’m innocent.” “Me too.” “Me too.” Everyone nodded or raised his hand.
I shook my head. “No seriously. I’m innocent. I was set up by a spiteful person.” “Me too.” “Me too.” Everyone nodded or raised his hand.
The call line inched forward. Big Guy said “We’re all innocent ’til proven guilty.” “Yeah, but I’m especially innocent!” “Me too.” “Me too.”
“What they say you did?” “They say I vaporized a guy.” “Vapor-what?” “The victim was dissolved.” “No shit? How’d you do that?” “I didn’t!”
(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)