Today was a momentous day in my life as a prisoner: I have taken ownership of my own chair in the
TV Room. Maybe you expected something
more dramatic? I assure you, next to
securing a bottom bunk in a 2-man cube, a chair in the tv room is the next most
highly coveted prison perk. Wait a
minute, as long as we’re rating things, let me think for a minute.
Okay, I’ve got a more complete hierarchy, which goes like
this from most to least coveted perk:
(1) As mentioned, bottom bunk in a 2-man cube; (2) top bunk in a two-man
cube; (3) bottom bunk in a 3-man cube; and (4) finally (!) sole “ownership” of
a TV Room chair with unobstructed view of all five tv’s (better than some
sports bars I’ve been to!); and (5) sole ownership of a chair with obstructed
views with partial rights to a chair with unobstructed views. Believe me, to have achieved perk 2 and 4 in
less than eighteen months without resorting to hustling or flat-out buying them
is an impressive feat. Later, I’ll
speculate on what this may say about me, but first let me explain the
complexities of rank in the TV Room.
The most salient point here is that our unit houses 160-170
men and the TV Room has 75 hard plastic chairs lined up in rows in front of the
tv wall. These chairs get stacked up at
night and laid back out in rows in the morning.
Technically, of course, you can’t own a chair. What you do “own” is the spot where the chair
sits. If someone else is in that spot
when you enter the TV Room, you have absolute right to evict them. If they resist? Well, if you have a legitimate claim to the
chair clearly known to all then the quorum will inform the squatter in no
uncertain terms to vacate the chair. As
you can imagine, this eviction is typically accomplished in the most diplomatic
and gentlemanly way possible. Carefully
worded phrases such as “Get your sorry ass up!” or “What, you some kind of
fool?” or most typically, because the squatter is most often a new guy who
doesn’t know the rules yet, “Who the xxxx do you think you are? You ain't even been here a minute!” are some
of the gently persuasive requests offered to restore order in the room.
Problems do arise, however, when someone has not used their
chair often enough to officially mark it as theirs. In this case, the chair may be up to get
“jacked.” You jack a chair by always
showing up at high volume viewing times and sitting in that chair or by leaving
your blanket, ID or radio on the chair.
It is an unwritten rule that NOBODY EVER moves another dude’s blanket. So in this way, whoever first establishes a
consistent presence on a chair takes ownership.
This sort of thing rarely happens, though, because chairs are both rare
and valuable. You usually gain a chair
only if a friend is leaving and offers it to you. Which then leaves, on a busy game night,
90-95 guys who have no chair in the TV Room at all.
If you do not have your own chair, you may have a
fully-vested cellie who does not watch much tv and allows you to use his chair
when he’s not there. If you are lucky,
he may even grant you eviction power. If
you are extremely Powerballesque lucky, you cellie will be going home soon and
will agree to pass the chair on to you upon his release. This is a sort of lease-to-own program. You can also try to buy a chair or a share of
a chair for X number books of stamps.
As with real estate everywhere, location is what it’s all
about with TV Room chairs. Some spots
cost more. Until you are able to share,
buy or inherit a chair you just have to hope to find an empty spot and
recognize that you may get booted 3, 4, 5 times each evening.
Once you have your chair, you are not home free. You must always guard it from a hostile
takeover. This involves sitting in the
chair for at least an hour every day after count, leaving your blanket in the
chair when you’re not there, and most importantly never failing to boot a guy
who may be sitting in your chair when you enter the room. Sharing your chair can be tricky, requiring
some strategy. For example, if you don’t
watch “Love and Hip Hop” (yes, some of us exist) you can find someone who likes
the show and lend it out for that show.
His role then is to tell others, “Look, I use so-and-so’s chair during
this show!” This spreads word of your
ownership, even when you are elsewhere.
Okay, so back to the question of how I obtained both a 2-man
cube and a good TV room chair in less than 18 months behind bars? Threats? Barter? Poaching/Jacking? Purchase?
Nope. Nearest I can figure, it
happened like this. Once I calculated
that my life would be greatly improved with a 2-man cube with a window and desk
and with rights to an unobstructed view TV Room chair, I came up with a
counter-intuitive plan, enlisting tactics not normally seen in prison. This approach would come as a surprise to my
fellow inmates, perhaps even cause confusion among the masses. Yet here it is: I decided to be kind. Taking it a step or two further, I even threw
in consideration and helpfulness. Now,
this is still a prison, so I couldn’t be a pushover, but even in this macho
world, I found plenty of opportunities to practice everyday kindness. And it worked! Lo and behold, I became appreciated and, dare
I say, respected by my fellow inmates.
The most immediate payoff is peace of mind, and some admitted pride in
maintaining my humanity in an inherently inhumane setting. Added benefits were reaped when, without
lobbying, I was offered a spot in a 2-man cube and then a TV Room chair, no
strings or hidden agendas attached.
By the way, I’ve been writing this as I relax in my new
chair. Gotta make my presence
known! Soon, I hope to be writing about
my hoped for move to a bottom bunk. For
now, with NCAA March Madness upon us, I relish my 5-TV view.
