Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Prison Break
I had to go to the Cook County Jail today to visit my pro bono client. This is always an interesting ordeal. The jail is out in the middle of nowhere, so that it is impossible to access via any sort of reliable public transit. And there are probably a total of five parking spots, so there is much circling around and being deceived by hydrants to do on each visit. Then you have to go through intense security that consists of a large, aggressive woman making sarcastic remarks to you as she pats you down. If there is any time you really want a person to be thinking up zingers, it is as she is fondling your legs and groin. Let me also caution that this is not the time to ask any questions that you may have about, say, where you need to go in the enormous complex of about thirty buildings that is the jail, as they will be met only with icy silence and, possibly, a body cavity search.
Much of the jail is run by sassy black women, though, which I really appreciate. They kept launching into colorful stories without any sort of provocation or context. There was lots of jargon employed that was utterly meaningless to me, and yet I couldn't get enough. Frankly, I feel much more secure knowing that a lady named Towanda with six-inch turquoise fingernails is there to sass any miscreants back into submission. They might make it over the fence, but they'll never survive the colorful jibes.
I had to go to the Cook County Jail today to visit my pro bono client. This is always an interesting ordeal. The jail is out in the middle of nowhere, so that it is impossible to access via any sort of reliable public transit. And there are probably a total of five parking spots, so there is much circling around and being deceived by hydrants to do on each visit. Then you have to go through intense security that consists of a large, aggressive woman making sarcastic remarks to you as she pats you down. If there is any time you really want a person to be thinking up zingers, it is as she is fondling your legs and groin. Let me also caution that this is not the time to ask any questions that you may have about, say, where you need to go in the enormous complex of about thirty buildings that is the jail, as they will be met only with icy silence and, possibly, a body cavity search.
Much of the jail is run by sassy black women, though, which I really appreciate. They kept launching into colorful stories without any sort of provocation or context. There was lots of jargon employed that was utterly meaningless to me, and yet I couldn't get enough. Frankly, I feel much more secure knowing that a lady named Towanda with six-inch turquoise fingernails is there to sass any miscreants back into submission. They might make it over the fence, but they'll never survive the colorful jibes.
