May 25, 2012
Subject: Bizarre Jail Experiences (Part 1)
Just now, at about 11:30pm, as I am in my cell, writing letters, a voice comes through the speaker in my room:
“Hello.”
I’m startled. “Hello?,” I respond.
“Shut your door, please,” the disembodied voice commands me in a Hispanic accent.
I look out my tiny jail door window and see no one at the control desk. No one in the dimly lit day room. My door appears to be all the way shut. I try to budge it. I can’t.
“My door is shut, I can’t move it,” I respond to the disembodied Hispanic voice that barked at me.
“I’m going to open your door. Then, you’re going to close it,” the voice commanded me.
“Okay,” I say, fearfully. A metallic grinding motor sound unwinds at my door. Then it opens. I pull it shut with a slam.
“Thank you,” says the voice.
“My pleasure,” I lie in habitual response. Seconds later I realize that the next time I am prompted in such a manner, it couldn’t hurt me to “be asleep”, and let the guards do the locking rather than commanding me to play the role of jailed and jailer.
