The Island of Misfit Drunks
Day One. I eat lunch and request to be put to work in the kitchen. The food sucks so bad, I'll cook. We have to get up at 5 AM to cook for the entire jail. Inmates and jailers. Between breakfast, lunch, and dinner cooking and cleaning, it's a 12 hour day.
Day Two. Breakfast, under my direction as the responsible employee realizes I know what I'm doing, flies out the door and we get compliments from the jailers. The other "cooks" get a little miffed that I don't ask, I order. Move, jailbird. Lunch and dinner go swimmingly and we get bonused with our choice of anything in the kitchen for our meal. Compliments coming in from all cell blocks.
Day Three. We're cruising now. The staff accepts my lead since I muck in with them on all the cleaning. Nasty effing place. Being Sunday we get a break. While fixing a nice lunch we also make sandwiches for dinner. That's our one meal off for the entire week. For lunch we had meatloaf and mashed potatoes. "Where's the gravy?" I asked. "Gravy? There's no gravy." I look around and declare if you'll let me there will be gravy. Go for it, they say. A half hour later, I have a small vat of beef gravy. When lunch gets delivered there was cheering.
Now all this hard work and long hours had a purpose. I had 24 hour access to the kitchen. I could make coffee or a snack within reason whenever I wanted. I got to wear my own shoes instead of the issued sandals. And I got 3 days off my sentence for every day I worked. I turned 30 days into 10.
And I will never ever, ever, ever, ever drink and drive again.
Day Two. Breakfast, under my direction as the responsible employee realizes I know what I'm doing, flies out the door and we get compliments from the jailers. The other "cooks" get a little miffed that I don't ask, I order. Move, jailbird. Lunch and dinner go swimmingly and we get bonused with our choice of anything in the kitchen for our meal. Compliments coming in from all cell blocks.
Day Three. We're cruising now. The staff accepts my lead since I muck in with them on all the cleaning. Nasty effing place. Being Sunday we get a break. While fixing a nice lunch we also make sandwiches for dinner. That's our one meal off for the entire week. For lunch we had meatloaf and mashed potatoes. "Where's the gravy?" I asked. "Gravy? There's no gravy." I look around and declare if you'll let me there will be gravy. Go for it, they say. A half hour later, I have a small vat of beef gravy. When lunch gets delivered there was cheering.
Now all this hard work and long hours had a purpose. I had 24 hour access to the kitchen. I could make coffee or a snack within reason whenever I wanted. I got to wear my own shoes instead of the issued sandals. And I got 3 days off my sentence for every day I worked. I turned 30 days into 10.
And I will never ever, ever, ever, ever drink and drive again.
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