STOP! This material is NOT edited for content. It is not fiction. It contains explicit language and descriptions of real situations. It is not suitable for minors, and may not be suitable for people who easily disturbed…
I saw the same things cause the same problems in prison over and over again. In the real world we said it was Drugs, Gambling and Pussy. In prison it is the same, only whatever can pass for pussy, usually that is a guy, but sometimes it is a civilian woman or officer.
You have to be so careful, it is major drama. If the guy is pretty, woman like, some gang will take control and then there is major drama. Men who have long-term lovers often refer to the man as their wife.
I watched the homosexuals, and the guys who had been turned as we called it, come and go. They were never around long because they were instant trouble. Men got stabbed and died because of them, gang shit popped off because of them. It was always bad, and the whole prison sometimes sighed in relief when they left.
The gamblers were another matter. The same guys doing the same dumb shit they did on the streets. I met a guy who liked to gamble. He ended up going up against a friend of mine who was very good. My friend had been in a motorcycle gang before he came in. Not a joke, a genuine bad ass. I had nothing to do with the situation that came to be, but heard about it after the fact. Usually the guys he gambled with gambled for a few bucks, maybe a few hundred if it was a big football game, a once a year thing, but most of the time it was small change, but this guy got into my friend for several thousand dollars.
My friend told the guy he had to pay when he came to him whining about how he didn’t have that much. There wasn’t a choice, so the guy said no problem. A few days later he gives my friend the money.
I found out months later what had happened through another friend, after the C.O.’s came and snatched my friend from the rec yard. Another friend told me what happened. The guy’s wife had stolen the money from where she worked. The guy had called her and lied. He told her he had to pay it for protection or he would be killed. The wife got caught, she told what the husband had said, the husband turned on the guy and that was that. The wife got two years, my friend got a few more years added on, and the guy that owed the debt got transferred to another prison. So there really are guys in prison who should be there and they are just as big a scum bag in prison as they were outside of it. I felt badly for the wife.
Drugs were a bad deal too. I saw a lot of bad shit happen because of drug deals. Men come from the streets thinking they can keep their addictions. They get right into a guy for whatever their drug of choice is. Heroin, Cocaine, Pot, Alcohol and pretty much everything else. You don’t see much E, Methamphetamine, or Crack, simply because guys too often lose their heads on that stuff and then once they come too in the hospital or the box they tell on everyone. That is bad for their health, and they will pay for it, but it is also bad for the seller and they will also pay for it. Most of the time they run up a bill for H, or Pot, or whatever and then they decide, irrationally, that they can stiff the guy and nothing can happen to them. That always ends up bad. Usually they send someone to converse with them. That is what they say, converse, like we are all sane and things are just fine, and we’re just having a conversation here, that’s all.
Conversing rarely does any good, so the next thing is they send the guy that spends all day at the weight shack in the yard. He gets a job there because other than lift weights he has nothing else he wants to do, but he has to live, buy commissary, so occasionally he smacks the shit out of someone that owes money to one of the connections for gambling, drugs, or ass.
Sometimes getting your ass kicked pretty hard does it for you and you cough up the money or make plans to pay it back: If you are a young, good looking guy that might mean you’ll get passed around to a few men until the debt is paid off.
I saw this happen more than once:
You are out in the yard on Friday night. Recreation is close to over. The shift change has happened. It is the weekend coming up so all the officers will be fill ins in most cases, or swapping their time. The officer you came to the rec yard with won’t be the officer you’ll go back with. The officers watching you over the weekend also won’t be the officers that have that block the majority of the time.
You have to go back and spend the night with a guy in his cell, in place of his cell mate. So you both head for the bathroom, one place where you are not totally observed. The one guy is wearing something bright, something that will be noticed. You switch those tops, usually a sweat shirt, yellow, red, doesn’t matter. You also switch prison issue tops, they have your name on them. You walk out of the bathroom like you have the biggest balls in the world. When the block you have to go to is called you walk over and get in that line. The C.O. Counts. All he cares about is he came out with thirty six men and he is taking back thirty six men. The shift has changed since you came out, they always wait until afternoon Rec. And so you go back and become someone’s lover, willingly, or to pay a debt. Tomorrow you will do the same thing at early rec and go back to your own block.
Then I scoffed at the idea of getting involved in any sort of trouble like that, being one of those dummies, but there was a time before I went to prison where drama was in my life nearly all the time. I hated it, but I was also the creator of it most times. Either because of the lifestyle I lived, the people in my life, or the things I had done to others in my life. So I have been that dummy a few times in my life and it never turned out good for me.
I actually fell in love with a woman who was addicted to crack back in the late 80’s. We called them crack heads back then, male or female, it didn’t matter. All they cared about was the drug, getting it no matter what.
I didn’t know she was addicted to crack at first, when I found out I was at that fuck it, it doesn’t matter stage. I went to her place one night and she was high, a few minutes later some guy starts pounding on the door. Her supplier. She had been cracking it up on a tab, probably told him I would pay him. He pulled a knife, she pulled a knife and I was in the middle of it.
I stopped it, I’m a big guy, I suspect the little dealer guy didn’t want to really fuck with me, maybe thought I’d still be a problem if he stabbed me. Like an idiot I paid the guy off too. That was the end of her for me, but that was pretty bad. It could have cost me a lot.