Tour of the Crib
Well, this letter has been a long time coming! For some strange reason, every time I tell myself I'm going to write, I suddenly find myself sleeping or reading or doing anything but writing. It must be the starchy non-protien diet - I swear I'm not just lazy! :-) But, the time has finally came; I'm jacked up on coffee, still riding the bouyant wave of me excellent sentence, and highly motivated for the nest fifteen minutes at least.
So, what's new since last I wrote? I've been in a single cell for the past 4 months or so. It's extremely nice having a spot where I can get some privacy, and since this is the only single I'll have until I get out roughly 2,160,000 minutes from now - I figured I'd spruce the place up a bit. I'm not sure if you know what the cells here look like, so allow me to take you on a verbal tour of a marvel in early 21st century penal architecture.
Starting from the cloyingly eye-pleasing lavender doorway - complete with ultra-secure burgular proof lock system - and travelling counter-clockwise, we stop first to admire the walk up closet (1). Where one can supposedly hang 2 towels, a washcloth, and 2 full sets of clothing in pleasantly quaint open view - make sure no dirties are over when hosting guests! We continue on the highly contraband 4-ply wool blanket/carpeting (2) in a pleasantly stark charcoal gray. Sure to make those 4 foot midnight jaunts to the bathroom much more comfortable to the bare feet. This nappy floor covering, while difficult to obtain and subject to surprise removal by an abstinately priggish Corrections Officer is a must for the prisoner seeking a humbly stylish abode. Moving on in our peregrination, we arrive at the wonderfully sturdy 2 foot high pallet (3). Made of unyeilding concrete covered with a 3" thick plastic mattress, this uncommodious sleep center, sure to contribute to back pain later in life, will inure even the softest soul to the somnulent hardships faced by the homeless and Russian Gulay prisoners.
Continuing our turn around the homefront we come to the utile clerk/shelf/gym/private vault/library area (4). The confluence of utility consists of a hardy steel writing desk which doubles as an open shelf to hold a prisoner's baubles and miscellaneous bric-a-brac. Under this august piece one finds a veritable bank vault of inanely secure storage space in the form of a Rubbermaid® tote. In the micromanaged space between this indubitable plastic wonder and the lovely ceramic bathroom fixtures a bare two feet away, we find a cornucopia of murder mysteries and John Grisham novels that form a sparse, well thumbed library adjacent to the home gym apparatus made of water bottles and a laundry bag.
And finally we venture into the bathroom/laundry area (5),(6). Consisting of a stark, lidless commode and a quaintly small sink that doubles as a washer/dryer and topped by a foot square steel mirror and small cosmetic shelf, this utilitarianly unadorned section of the household definitely enhances the blackmarket carpeting and bohemian hanging art that add comfort and color to our domicile. And so ends our tour or this nutty lodging. For more information look forward to the next month's edition of Better Cells and Gardens.