I don't like working with female inmates. No, cross that--I hate it. I have such a dislike for female inmates that I've only worked two shifts in a women's facility.
Female inmates are nothing like male inmates. They don't follow the 'Code of Silence' like male inmates do. They love to tell on each other, they love to kiss up to the officers, and they loooooove to complain. Worst of all, they throw off my Prison Mojo. With male inmates I usually know what's going on and my internal compass points me in the right direction. A gang-banger looks and acts like a gang-banger. A child molester looks and acts like a child molester. My Prison Mojo is finely tuned enough that I can usually walk into just about any situation and know what I'm dealing with.
Not so with female inmates. One second they are sweet and innocent 'girls' who cry if you look at them funny. The next they are furious harpies willing to claw your eyes out. Some women earn reputations as more insane than the others, but that's never much comfort because each and every one of them has the potential to snap on you without warning.
My first experience came when I needed to work some overtime. The fates decided to fuck with me, and I was assigned to work in the female maximum-security unit. As the male inmates put it, "That's where they keep all them 'Super-Crazy Bitches'."
I was very apprehensive about this. I'd heard horror stories about male officers losing their jobs over a female inmate's accusation that he touched her inappropriately or intentionally looked at her in the nude. To top it off, the women always back each others stories-- true or not. As a result, all male officers need to be accompanied by another officer, preferably female, wherever he goes.
Upon stepping onto the block I was greeted with catcalls and whistles. The women peered at me through the small windows in their cell doors. I couldn't even see most of them and the ones I could see were just shadows silhouetted behind the glass. It was eerie. I'd heard that this was a standard occurrence for all new male officers as they arrived. What I didn't realize is that it would last all fucking day.
"Hey Officer, those pants seem to fit juuuust right!"
"I want joo to step into my cell Offica'! I'll show joo what a reeeeal woman can do!"
"Offica', I know's you want to fuck me, but choo have to let me fuck you in da ass wit a mop handle first! How's dat sound suga'?"
Now, before you start thinking that this is like that video 'Prison Sluts 3: The Escape from Dildotraz' I assure you that there is no such thing as an attractive female inmate. They may have been attractive before they came to prison, and I guess they might someday be attractive after they leave, but 99% of women in prison are completely repulsive. Their poor hygiene, dysfunctional personalities, and lack of intelligence conspire to make them ugly beyond belief. The weight gain that often occurs while in prison doesn't help either. It's quite frustrating to need an escort because some crazy bitch might decide that you actually intended to look at her nasty tits, and that the cry of, "Oh dear God, my eyes!" could have somehow been an exclamation of enjoyment.
After their relentless harassment I now have an understanding of how an attractive woman must feel. At first it's kind of nice to have so many women acting like they want you, but you know you don't want any of them, and you're not certain if they are being sarcastic or not. After awhile I started to feel like a piece of meat. It was... uncomfortable.
I finally made it to the control room where I met up with the other officer I'd be working with. Her name was Tracy. Officer Tracy was a fat old crow who didn't give a shit about anything. She was more than happy to just sit in the control room reading a romance novel instead of doing anything even remotely job related. I call officers like her 'Bodies'.
A Body is an officer who only does the absolute minimum to get by. They are usually assigned to a post of little significance because they would fuck up anything even remotely important. Fortunately, Bodies are a fairly rare occurrence. Unfortunately, they are sometimes assigned to posts they have absolutely no business working, such as a women's maximum-security unit.
Being the new guy I asked Officer Tracy what the order of the day was.
Me: "So Tracy, what do we need to do first this morning?"
Tracy: "Hmmmmm... Ugh... well, I'm just filling in here today. I don't know."
She turned back to her Danielle Steel novel.
Now I know that Officer Tracy has been working in the women's facilities for the last ten years, so that leads me to believe that she is completely full of shit. I decided to call her on it.
Me: "Tracy, how many times have you worked in this unit this year?"
Tracy: "Well... Why do you...? I... Oh, I don't know. A few times I guess."
Me: "Look Tracy, I've never worked here before. I've never worked with women before. How about a little help here?"
Officer Tracy glared at me, and after a few moments she slammed her book down. Then she said, "Well, it looks like I'll have to do everything today."
She stood up and punched a few buttons to let some inmates out of their cells to shower. Then she made a couple of announcements over the intercom system. After that she returned to her chair and picked up her book.
This was going to be a long day.
A herd of inmates had gathered at the section door and they were all pushing the intercom button. Unfortunately, every time I turned on the speaker I couldn't hear a thing, just a bunch of high pitched voices all babbling together.
I turned to Tracy and asked, "What do they want?"
Without moving her book she replied, "Oh, it's the 15th. I suppose it's that time of the month."
I had no idea what she was talking about, "What do you mean? Are they starting school or something?"
"No, they probably need sanitary napkins."
It took me a second, but I finally realized what she was saying.
"Ooooooh no! I'm not handing out maxi pads. Why don't you come over here and do it?"
Tracy just turned a page in her book and said, "They're in that box under the control panel."
I looked under the counter and saw an industrial sized box of super absorbent maxi pads.
Since Officer Tracy is just a Body, I realize I have two options. I can be like her and let the unit go to shit, or I can do my fucking job. I don't know why, but my work ethic won out. I walked over to one of the windows and opened the shotgun port so the 'women' could hear me, "Ok, who needs maxi pads?" I think I heard one of my testicles say to the other, "What the hell was that? Did our boy just say 'Who needs maxi pads'? What's going on up there?"
Nearly every goddamn one of them rushed for the window.
I've always heard that women who live together eventually get on the same cycle, but I'd never actually seen it. I handed out around 200 pads that day. Call me a chauvinist if you want, but it was humiliating.
Eventually the female maxi pad stampede abated, so I moved on to other duties.
After coaxing Officer Tracy from her chair I got her to accompany me while I delivered mail and did a couple of random cell searches.
I walked up to the first cell in the section and tossed the inmates' mail under the door. When I stood up I saw a horror of white flesh, varicose veins, and stretch marks. I quickly looked to the side and shielded my eyes. I turned to Tracy who didn't seem to be paying attention.
Inmate Saggy Tits: "Officer! How dare you look at me naked? I'm telling! Haha!"
Me: "I didn't look at you intentionally! Can you verify that for me Tracy?"
Tracy: "Huh? What happened?"
Inmate Saggy Tits: "Haha! I got you!"
Me: "She... never mind, just help me get this mail delivered."
I quickly made my rounds and delivered the mail without looking in the cell windows, all the while catcalls echoed through the section.
I considered just skipping the cell searches, but decided that I had to do at least one. I wasn't going to let a bunch of nasty women scare me off. I picked a cell at random and pulled the inmate out. She was a pasty white woman who must have weighed over 300 lbs. She started bitching in a high pitched whiny voice immediately.
Inmate Fatty: "Whyyyy do you have to bother meeeee? I wasn't doing anything wroooong. I'm going to files a grievance against yooooou."
I think I felt one of my teeth chip as I clenched my jaw.
Tracy just stood off to the side staring off into space.
Me: "Look, I've got to do random cell searches today. This will only take a second."
Inmate Fatty: "But whyyyyyyy? I didn't dooo anythiiiiiing!"
I glared at Tracy for a few seconds before her gaze wondered my way. I gave her my 'A little help please!' look.
Tracy: "Come over here and talk to me for a minute while Officer Hadley does a quick search."
Inmate Fatty: "Ooooh okaaaaaay."
Once Inmate Fatty waddled out of the way I walked into her cell and put on some latex gloves. First, I went through her laundry bag. Then I searched her locker. Finally, I moved to her bed. I felt around the top of the mattress and then I reached underneath. My fingers slid over something long and hard. Every fiber of my remaining innocence told me to just leave it alone, but the officer in me said to investigate.
I slowly extracted a broken broom stick that was over a foot in length. For a moment I felt relief until I noticed the build up of dried lotion and... stuff.
I dropped it on the bed and quickly walked out of the cell. I should have taken it with me since it is considered contraband, but I just didn't have much interest anymore. I only wanted to get away. I noticed that Tracy and Inmate Fatty were engrossed in a conversation, probably about Oprah or romance novels. I signaled to Tracy that I was finished and walked back to the control room.
The remainder of the day went by in a haze of catcalls, whining, and the smell of menstruation. I swear I could actually smell the women menstruating. If it were up to me I'd never return to that hellhole, but I was already scheduled to work another day there.
