Early one Saturday evening we got a call from our zone lieutenant telling us we were getting a lock-up from one of the dining halls. Lt gave me the guys number and I accessed his records via computer to prepare the paper work. He is a guest of the state for several reasons. Fairly typical of the inmates we deal with. In short, he is not a guy I would want for a neighbor.
However, the reason for him being sent to Adseg was, in my mind, bullshit. Seems he stole a lunch bag from the chow hall and got caught. Usually an infraction that gets you room restriction in your housing unit for a couple of weeks, not a trip to the Septic Tank.
My opinion aside, I assign him a cell and cellie based on his custody level and mental health score. His record in prison is actually pretty good, seems to be a quiet guy who doesn't get a lot of tickets. His new cellie is also a quiet guy who never gives us any trouble, so things should work out well.
One of the yard officers brings him from the chow hall in restraints, as we do with everyone coming to the Hole. During our interview in the office the guy appears calm though a bit chagrinned. Of course he is not contrite over stealing the lunch bag, only that he got caught.
I grab the paperwork and, along with another officer, escort our new resident to his new cell. I yell at the guy in the cell and he comes to the food port to be cuffed. About this time, Mr Lunch Bag says, "I really think I want a cell to myself."
This not being a Holiday Inn, I ignore him and apply restraints to the cellie as the other officer says, " The only one man cells we have this weekend are suicide cells, so I don't think you have much choice". And then Mr. Lunch Bag says, with a grin, "ok, I think I am going to kill myself".
I sigh.
I remove the restraints from his no longer to be cellie, close the chuckhole, turn to our genius and say, "Ok, you win, you get a one man cell". He grins from ear to ear. He knows he just stuck it to the man.
His arms are cuffed behind his back and, with one officer on either side holding him just above the elbows, we escort him to a one man cell in another wing of the housing unit. He is happy, smiling, laughing and feeling good. By this time our control room officer has called the sergeant and two more officers to assist us. Mr Lunchbag hasn't a clue.
Inside the 8 foot by 12 foot cell I direct the inmate to stand facing the back wall and say, "Mr Lunchbag, I am now going to remove your restraints. When the cuffs are removed you will turn slowly, face me and remove your shirt. You will hand me your shirt. You will then remove the rest of your clothing and hand me each item. Is this going to be a problem?"
He says, "Why I gotta strip out, man?"
I reply, "Sir, you have stated your intention to harm yourself. It is our responsiblity to see that you do not do that, therefor, you will be stripped out, your clothing stored in a locker and you will be issued a Kevlar smock until the psychiatrist tells us that you can have your property."
He whines, "Man, all I want is a one man cell."
The sergeant steps in, " Sir, your statement of self-harm has taken all decisions away from Custody and the only one who can get you out of this camera cell will be the psych".
"Camera cell?" he moans. " Man , I don't wanna be in no camera cell. This is bullshit, man." He looks around the concrete room, misery filling his eyes as he takes in the raised ledge that is the bed.
We strip him out without incident. He is given the suicide smock and he stands forlornly as we step out of the cell and the door slides closed. We exit the wing and I go to the officer, fill out the suicide intervention form, contact the zone lieutenant and fill out the Close Observation Log. Two minutes of paperwork and a phone call. Yup, he stuck it to me.
A few minutes later I am in the wing passing mail and he calls me over. He says, "So when do I see the shrink and get out of here"?
I smile and say, "Sir, this is Saturday. The psych works Monday through Friday."
He looks stunned, "You mean I ain't gonna see him tonight?"
"No sir, you will probably see him before noon on Monday."
" Fuck ! "
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Hee hee hee! Call me an evil old bastard but I just love it when that happens. Especially on long holiday weekends. If they want to make life difficult for us, I love returning the favor. We used to have a pshrink that worked the Hive that would hook us up. If a guy had genuine mental problems, he would do what he could to make them feel better. But if we told him they were just playing a game for a single cell, he would leave them on full suicide watch for as long as possible. I miss him.
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