Monday, February 11, 2008

Lockdowns, Toilets, Casinos, the Mercury Retrograde, and the Curse of Cheap Motels

Before I start blathering, please let me remind you about the link up there under the NC-17 sign. That's the link you must hit in order to get to the place where you'll enter your contest guess. When I left yesterday, the count was 24. When I got home today... well, it had exploded. I was floored. I have to say that there are some guesses that are way off, some that are close, and a few that are right on (and thank you for all the well-wishes!). I'll let you all study the entries to try and figure it out (giggling like an idiot).

There will be no pictures on the blog this week because I have enough to keep me busy with taking pictures for the shop. Not only did I find the exploding contest guesses when we got home, I had a LOT of packages on the porch. Poor Yarn Fairy. I've told him I'm opening a business, and he told me that was great - they needed all the business they could get - but just wait until he's delivered a few more mountains like this. I won't tell you how many boxes there were - that would give you a hint about how many vendors there are -but I will say that I had a few personal packages mixed in with the pile that LITERALLY covered the porch. 'Nuff said (now trying to not choke because I'm laughing too hard).

Oops - I did indeed laugh too hard. Gotta pee. BRB.

Back. Don't you hate when you dribble on your fuzzy slippers?

What a great segue. Speaking of toilets, I did it again. Bathroom time is crossword puzzle time. I've been doing them in the can since I was a kid. Maybe that's why I'm pretty good at Jeopardy - I've learned a lot of useless information doing those things. So there I sat Saturday night, working on a Challenger puzzle and minding my own business. I felt sleepy but didn't pay any attention to it. There was nothing I could do on the computer because Hubster had to fix something which I needed, so I was knitting and enjoying the evening. Anyway, I sort of tipped forward a couple of times but caught myself. Wake up, I told myself. You've only got three more clues before you finish this bitch. And then the inevitable occurred. I woke up with my face plastered against the wall and floor, my ass sticking straight up in the air, one leg stuck between the toilet and shower and the other twisted under me, and the pen jammed up against my throat, leaving a lovely blue squiggly line going from ear to ear. Oh great. Now I have a bruise on my forehead, my legs are all twitchy, and the shadow of a blue line that didn't scrub off in the shower. Crap. I looked like Frankenwoman or else had drawn a line for some inmate to trace with a shiv. Then I plugged up the toilet with too much paper (if you put three sheets in this thing, it plugs up). Then I dropped my pen in the toilet. Now I have a plunged toilet that's barely running, a pen that's in the garbage, and a wet crossword puzzle book (I dropped water on it from the plunger). I don't think I'll be finishing that particular puzzle, since the book is also in the garbage. I ain't touching that bitch.

So today was prison day. We went out to dinner last night (Red Lobster - I love their cheesy biscuits), where I stuffed myself to the uh... gills. We waddled out to the car and drove over to that paragon of luxury, Days Inn. At least we got a room on the ground floor. It's always exciting when you first go into your room. You never know which lights are going to be burned out, if you have towels, if you have enough scratchy toilet paper, if the TV is going to be snowy, if the springs are coming through the mattress - fun times. Everything seemed to be in working order until I tried to turn on the lights next to the beds (we got twin beds - I have no idea why) and they didn't come on. I kept turning the knob, tried pushing it, and began to swear loudly. Fortunately, Hubster is mechanically inclined. He pulled out the nightstand and plugged the lights in. Uh... duh. So I settled down on one of the beds, got a spring up my ass, lit a butt, and proceeded to watch TV before I took out my knitting. We arrived there in plenty of time for me to knit (usually, we get there close to midnight, and I have to get up at 6:00 a.m. to get to the prison on time). I was so looking forward to knitting - I have the test socks to finish and two swap socks to finish, too. The next thing I knew, I had burned a hole in my new sweatshirt, the TV was playing a different program, and it was 2:30 a.m. Shit.

So I ripped off my now holey sweatshirt (sigh), crawled under the covers, had a drink of slushy Coke (at least they provide a refrigerator in the room) and fell right asleep again. Those long car rides do me in now. When the wake-up call came, I remember picking up the receiver and saying "H'loooo" into the part that goes next to your ear. I'm not the sharpest knife in the block when I first wake up.

It took a good half-hour for me to struggle to wakefulness, at least enough to get my lard ass out of bed and into the bathroom (or rather, the side of the room with the sink) to begin getting ready. After doing the stuff I could do at the sink, I moved into the little room where the shower and toilet are, started up the shower, and climbed in. I stared at the shower curtain for a few minutes while the water ran hard and hot (sounds like Hubster when he's feeling randy) and couldn't figure out what was wrong. The water was pouring all over the floor. Oh... I had forgotten to put the curtain INSIDE the shower. Our showers at home have the sliding glass doors, so I have to put my little thinking cap on when I use normal stuff.

I managed to dress myself without doing anything that would cause bodily harm, and we piled into the truck to head out to the prison. As you know, I usually have to hoof it a mile to get to the cellblock. This time, Bill was waiting for me (oh happy day!), so I climbed in the golf cart and off we went. Along the way, he told me that C Block had been under lockdown on Friday due to a race riot. Oh great. He wasn't sure how many people I would have in class, so we stopped in the office once we exited into the yard to check. Hmm... nobody had been authorized. It turned out that the clerk who did what they call duckets was an Asian man - one of the groups involved in the riot - and nobody had done his job. So I met one of my boys and trudged over to the chapel. Once inside, I waited for a bit before R came into the building - without anybody else. Bill finally came in and made some calls to get my boys released; he had the sergeant's and lieutenant's authorizations and was heading out to get their signatures when it happened.

You all know how I love the prison shows. They're always showing fights and knifings on the yard, guards running, and the tower guards bellowing for everybody to sit down. Well, we were sitting in the office shooting the breeze when there was a knifing, the guards went running, and the tower guards bellowed for everybody to sit down. I actually saw it happen - it was just like on TV. There were two men against one (the Northern vs. the Southern Mexicans); I don't know what precipitated the knifing, but they obviously knew there were no higher-ups on the yard (they were in a meeting). The inmates sat down, there were guards swarming all over the place, the riot squad came running with machine guns (I shit you not) and handcuffs, and a litter for the wounded man was brought out. He didn't want to get in it, so they sort of slammed him down and took him away. They walked right in front of me - there was blood running all over his face and neck. Then they marched the other two guys past me to get put in the cages, which are exactly what they sound like. I was talking to another inmate who was in the chapel while all this was happening, and he said that what happens is they strip you to your underwear and stick you in this cage which is just big enough for a man to squat down in; they keep you there until your anger is spent and then move you to the SHU. Wow. Then all the other inmates were cleared off the yard, and a guard came into the chapel and told R and the other inmate they had to go home (back to their cells). Lockdown. Time for Pam to leave.

I got ahold of the motel and had them contact Hubster; he immediately left to come get me. I got outside, waited about five minutes, and then off we went to the casino. Yay!

Among other things, I'm a devout gambler. I adore slot machines and live for our Reno trips. Since we're opening the shop, we don't have much discretionary money, but I had managed to keep $100 in my purse for about three months now (the only reason it was there is because I forgot all about it - forgetfulness being one of the many joys of prescribed narcotics like methadone and oxycontin). Hubster took out another bill, and we hit the casino floor. Thunder Valley is a lovely place, even though nothing is like a Reno or Vegas casino. I just wanted to bang away on the slots and win their six-figure jackpot. I couldn't even win five fucking dollars. Hubster did better - he actually was a little ahead, so I took some of his winnings and immediately put them right back into the machines. No luck today. I blame that and the lockdown on the Mercury retrograde. It's done horrible things to a lot of people, including blowing up their computers and losing all their data (and I don't mean just me). So I sadly got back in the truck, we headed home, and I fell asleep for the ride.

The other thing that happened when we got here is that we have no dial tone. NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! Thank goodness the phone dude put our DSL on a separate line so we can still use the computer. He's coming out tomorrow morning, so I hope he's able to fix everything once and for all. I'll be SO glad when this retrograde is over; it's the worst one we've had in ages. Don't believe it? Had anything weird or bad happen to you? Fortunately, it's over next week. Figures. Maybe I should have waited to open the shop. Nah. It's the right time.

So tonight, I'm writing all the tags that go on the merchandise. If I have time, I'll enter some of them on the computer. More likely, I'll knit. Tomorrow marks 23-hour work days until Saturday (I have to nap somewhere in there). I'll be posting before then.

If I don't fall off the toilet and impale myself on my pen first.


Laura Neal said...

Your hotel story reminds me of something that happened to me in a podunk hotel...I went to sit down in a chair in the corner of the room and it felt like something was wrong as I was walking over to the chair. I was with friends and the room was on the second floor. I walked back over the spot in the carpet thinking...what is going on? There was a big ass hole in the floor and they stretched carpet over it. So, if you happened to walk on the spot, you started to sink. This room was so damn scummy that we refused to crawl under the covers and yes, it was a Days Inn. For some reason I had packed sheets with me on this trip and we all used those on top of the bed spread. We were out of there the next morning. When I see my friends we all laugh about the crap hotel with the hole in the floor!

Rabbitch said...

I shouldn't be laughing at you ... but I am. I guess I'm just that kind of friend. *g*