Prison vs Work
In case you ever got the two mixed up, this should make things a bit more clear….
IN PRISON…you spend the majority of your time in an 8×10 cell.
AT WORK…you spend the majority of your time in a 6×8 cubicle.
IN PRISON…you get three meals a day.
AT WORK…you only get a break for one meal and you pay for it.
IN PRISON…you get time off for good behavior.
AT WORK…you get more work for good behavior.
IN PRISON…the guard locks and unlocks all the doors for you.
AT WORK…you must carry around a security card and open all the doors for yourself.
IN PRISON…you can watch TV and play games.
AT WORK…you get fired for watching TV and playing games.
IN PRISON… you get your own toilet.
AT WORK… you have to share the toilet with some people who pee on the seat.
IN PRISON…they allow your family and friends to visit.
AT WORK…you can’t even speak to your family.
IN PRISON…all expenses are paid by the taxpayers with no work required.
AT WORK…you get to pay all the expenses to go to work and then they deduct taxes from your salary to pay for prisoners.
IN PRISON…you spend most of your life inside bars wanting to get out.
AT WORK…you spend most of your time wanting to get out and go inside bars.
IN PRISON…you must deal with sadistic wardens.
AT WORK… they are called managers.
I think this is the 3rd time this week, that I've seen this compilation of
"Prison vs Work." I imagine that's a good indication, that I am spending entirely too much time, on the Internet but...
this actually pisses me off! If the truth were known, this is not what Prison is like, at all. Maybe it's a need to set the record straight, I'm not sure. I do get tired of the perception, a valid misperception, that when you go to Prison, you sit around and play cards all fuckin' day. Not true, not true, not fuckin' true!
You do not get your own bathroom. It's usually two per cell and you shit, right with your cell mate in the same cell, not to mention, any guard who walks by and looks in, after all that is their job, to watch you shit and dress and sleep and scratch your ass.
The food is nasty as hell, for a reason, so I'm told. They served Rooster for fucks sake. Most of the time, you lived on Ramen noodles and the recipes for Chi Chi's so they're called became your mission. Cook it up with squirt cheese and Slim Jims.
If you have family, that puts money on your books, in your commissary account, you can buy a T.V. I was not so fortunate and would never take that kinda money for it in the first place. It's the same with those bitches, doing time, that have 5 pairs of sneakers, it's a status symbol. They don't mind taking money from Mommy, while Mommy takes care of their kids too. I could just puke.
I didn't watch T.V. for 3 1/2 years because I couldn't stand going in the day room. You couldn't hear, in the first place, as Prison echoes, with the loud mouth, cuttin' up and carrying on, uncivilized assholes.
I also worked 5 days a week, starting at .18 an hour. I ended up at .42 an hour, which is the most you can make. But I worked as a Chef/Mgr. at a Fine Dining Restaurant before my incarceration and they threw me in the dishroom, till they received my Paperwork, my Degree. Then, since it was authenticated, I became a Cook 1. There were two of us and we cooked for 985 nasty ass women. Imagine that you have to follow Institutional Recipes, with the threat of being thrown in the hole, which I replaced a chick who went into the Pantry and added Hidden Valley Ranch dressing to the white beans, she was cooking. They threw her ass in the RHU, restricted housing unit. No shit but you get to hear comments, on how shitty things taste, the heat is on to try to make things right. You learn a few things in the big house; you don't fuck with family, food or a motherfuckers money. Imagine, just try, wondering if that chick who sliced that guys throat, is gonna be pissed cause you made her Spaghetti and it tasted just like the recipe you were made to use.
I woke at 4am and was walked by a guards/CO's escort to the Dining Hall, to cook for these ungrateful whores. I used a paddle, like a boat paddle to stir the shit in these two huge ass vats, as big as hot tubs. I had two rotary ovens and 4 huge fryers. I had a combination oven, that when opening the door, it was like the door to a bank vault. You had to yell "Clear" or the steam could and would burn your face, right the hell off. It was hot as Hades, all the time but even worse in the summer with only one fan, a little fan at the other end of the huge dining hall.
After a year of that, I was picked to work outside the gates. It was supposedly an honor afforded me because I used to make the Warden's lunch and always made it special. Initially, I began that tenure by simply cleaning the Administration Building. I had started, along with a five member crew, cleaning the whole building. Within that building, was the Warden's office and all the Admin. employees, along with the office staff, Control Room, CO Locker Rooms, Lounge, bathrooms and Lobby. This is the building where family/visitors came for inmate visitation. Eventually, I was assigned strictly to clean the Warden's quarters, a highly classified job. After doing that, my shift changed and they took me outside the gates, every Saturday and Sunday to clean. I was the only inmate in that entire facility, outside those gates, on the weekends. This was supposedly, another honor. I don't know about you but doing everything you can to assure your Parole, truly sucks. To go outside the Gates, beyond the Barbwire and Constantine wire, you had to be patted down. You were not allowed to wear any personal shoes but you had to wear state issue boots with their less than an 1/8 of an inch sole, they leaked and in the winter, you froze your ass. Coming back in, you had to be strip searched, every single day. You literally, did a strip, one article of clothing at a time, handing it back to the CO,
"Lift your breasts, spread your toes, bend over, spread your buttock, wider."
You pay, when you play, that's all I'm saying. It was no gravy train!