The Rules of the Game

I’m sure you’ve heard the old saying, “You learn something new every day?”  Despite the routine of the prison experience, I’ve discovered that this saying is more true here than anywhere else I’ve lived.  And what you learn in prison is likely to fall into a category along the lines of “I Couldn’t Make this Stuff Up.”  For instance, allow me to introduce one of my neighbors, Billy Joe.  An Appalachian mountain man in his late 60s, Billy Joe could easily be the model for half a dozen characters from the tv show Justified.  He has spent most of his adult life as a guest of the federal or state prison systems.  I’d stayed clear of him and couldn’t imagine that he might be able to share anything interesting from his limited experience of life on the outside.  This all changed one day when he sat down opposite me and commanded me to listen up.  Usually something of a goofball, his seriousness at this moment caught me off guard.  I put down my book, thinking that maybe I had misjudged Billy Joe, and readying myself for some homespun mountain wisdom.

Satisfied that he had my attention, Billy Joe opened with, “Listen up city boy, I’s about to learn you somethin’ good.”  My mind raced, what could it be?  Some pearl of wisdom about life in prison?  How to deal with the tedium? The boredom?  The loneliness?  Possibly a cautionary tale so I wouldn’t end up a lifer like him?  No, Billy Joe had more important fish to fry.  He was ready to share an ultimate, hard won secret, which he labeled “My Rules for Runnin’ Whores.”  This being your lucky day, allow me to pass along this knowledge to you, pretty much verbatim as he said it:

Rule One:  One, two, three, or four whores is good, but five are too many.  Just trust Billy Joe, he said, five are hard to manage.  Plus, they don’t all fit in a sports car.

Rule Two:  Never keep your guns, dope, money, and women in the same place.  If you get busted, you lose everything and your charges will be worse.  Plus, you can never trust a woman not to steal your dope and guns.

Rule Three:  Don’t ever hit your women.  It’s much better to control them with dope.  (Apparently, on the Pimp Humanity Scale, hitting is less advisable than enabling an addiction to a deadly drug such as meth, crack or heroin). 

At this point, Billy Joe paused, and I thought he was finished.  But he had more wisdom to impart, boy did he have more.  He had to think about whether I could be trusted with his final and most important rule.  As a newbie to prison life and a city boy, he wasn’t sure I was ready.  He took a deep breath, thought things over.  Then made a decision.  The theme song from Shaft played in my head as I prepared myself for his gift of the Holy Grail of Appalachian Pimpin’, which I here quote:

Rule Four:  “Get a midget, a sexy midget.  Guys will pay anything for a midget.”

This was it.  No explanation needed.  He stopped, as if he had imparted a known law of the universe.  Gravity, Inertia, Entropy, and Midget Prostitutes.  Period.  Lesson over.  You can thank me later.  Billy Joe wore a satisfied smile on his grizzled face.  He stood up and walked away without another word.  Class Dismissed!