Day 125: The Bubble Trap
- mainemoviepirate
- Apr 2
- 3 min read
Actual Entry - 10/25/21 - MON -
Up at 7:45, H/L/R Drink, Walking Distance, legal Research, scored some Cayenne Pepper. Good for Another 6 months, unfortunately. Starting off pretty strong, Here's to a good day, week and month.
Well, maybe I'm right, the town driver just told me to give the type-writer cop-out to the CO in the bubble. OK.
LUNCH: Taco, Beef (which was actually pretty good today), cheese, Salsa, creamed corn, black beans.
Work the shift, plasticware/napkin thing. Then back to Cubicell 15, and quickly wrote up the type-writer thing, and took it to the bubble. Met Officer Bagley who is in charge of the education dept, we had a conversation about type-writers/law library/even dog class. He seemed cool, way too cool for the BOP. I'm still shocked. He says he is going to get a type-writer for the law library, This could come back to haunt me, of course, I say that Alot. Good day so far, still. Don't Jinx it!
Too late, jinxed, got a bad report on the Educ. dude. But who knows what will happen? I'm curious to find out.
SUPPER: Gross meatball, didn't have to touch it to know that. Spaghetti, ate some. Spinach (ate all), SALAD (ate some), GARLIC bread, saved a slice,
Still a good day, should go back to my cubicell and stay till lights off, but even that's no guarantee.
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You're in my Seat - I'm pretty sure it's "Absolute Power" with Clint Eastwood, never saw it but the two scenes I watched were good.
Four Years Later -
“The Bubble” in most prisons, whether in higher custody places or the camps, was a large, glassed-in, secure room where the guard or guards on duty basically hung out. A guard station. I had been driving C.C. (the town driver), P.O., and really anyone who would listen crazy by complaining about the typewriters, or rather, the lack of them. So, C.C. acted like he was helping me out by sending me to the person who could fix the typewriter problem.
The reality was that Officer Bagley did this every time he pulled camp duty: he would drag a prisoner in there and just keep them talking. C.C. thought it was hilarious that he had suckered me in.
“Yeah, all that shit he talked about, none of it will happen,” C.C. told me later.
“What about the typewriters?” I asked.
C.C. just laughed. Sigh.
Plus, as I sat there talking to Bagley about typewriters, education, my case, prison reform, you name it—10, 20, 30 minutes went by. And so did virtually every inmate in the camp, walking past and watching me in the Bubble. Talking to the Man. For a very short time after that, I was painted as the new “Camp Rat.” Thankfully, it was short-lived.
Another important incarceration lesson learned: if you don’t have to, don’t talk to the cops. End of lesson.
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