A New One Lands in the Cuckoo's Nest

My library co-worker got fired.  Yes, it is possible to get fired from a prison job.  It takes a lot, but it can be done.  My former fellow library clerk apparently did not read his employment contract, where it clearly states that our duties include doing whatever we are told to do by staff.  Furthermore, he forgot about the 13^th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution.  On December 6, 1865 slavery was abolished with the following language:

Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, EXCEPT AS A PUNISHMENT FOR CRIME WHEREOF THE PARTY SHALL HAVE BEEN DULY CONVICTED, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.

We prisoners are the “EXCEPT….”  It is often pointed out to us that we are essentially slaves.  They pay us out of the kindness of their souls and are under no obligation to do so. 

Within a day of my co-worker’s firing, a New Guy was hired (let’s call him that; prison monickers aren’t always clever).  I tried to prepare him for our collection of harmless eccentrics, wackos, and the few downright mentally unstable patrons.  But then yesterday an Old Timer wandered up to the desk.  I was busy helping someone, so New Guy had to fly solo.  Now, I know that this Old Timer slips off-kilter very easily and that it’s generally best not to engage.  New Guy did not know that.  What follows is as close to a verbatim recounting of the conversation they had as I can manage (I took notes afterwards), along with my own post-convo commentary:

New Guy:  Hey Old Timer, what’s up? (Old Timer is not an insult in prison.)

Old Timer:   I just need to staple my papers.  (He does this 2-3 times a week to the same stack of papers.  You can see where he removes the staples.)

New Guy:  Okay.  By the way, where did you get that Sony radio? (Inmates are always curious where another inmate may have acquired something not indigenous to the compound.)

Old Timer:  Well, I been down a loooong, loooooooong time. (Yes, he dragged it out like that.)

New Guy:  Oh yeah, how long? (First mistake.)

Old Timer:  Thirteen years. (You might consider this a considerable amount of time, but in prison 13 years does not earn you the right to declare a loooong, loooooooong time.)

New Guy:  How much longer you got? (Not so bad thus far?  Okay, hang on because here we enter the Twilight Zone.)

Old Timer:  Well, I only had an eight year sentence, that’s why I’m filing paper.  They kept me too long. (He just figured that out?  Five years later?)

New Guy:  How’d that happen?  (Second mistake.)

Old Timer:  Okay, you see I got mistreated so I decided to sue.  So I sued Governor Christie of New Jersey for $50 billion.  But they offered to settle for $2 billion.  And then that cop shot the kid in Ferguson?  That’s when Christie hired a hit squad to get me so they won’t let me leave.  (This all made perfect sense to him.  Why Christie?  We’ll never know.)  I can probably get out once Christie becomes President because he’ll be afraid I’ll blackmail him.

New Guy:  Christie dropped out of the race. 

Old Timer:  Hmm, interesting.  Maybe I should settle for $1 billion?  (At this point New Guy turned to me and asked, Did you put this guy up to this?  It’s gotta be a joke!  I assured him that it was no joke.)

Old Timer (turning to me): Well damn, see if I share any money with him!  He walks off.

So after I stopped ribbing New Guy for the look on his face, I welcomed him to the Cuckoo’s Nest.  He asked, How do you deal with this stuff everyday?  As I have said before, I told him you just have to laugh and roll with it.  You can’t make this shit up!