Prisoners Are Not Called Prisoners Here
I am buzzing in through three gates, the sound is like a tantrum.
A a man in Unit 4 blue "INMATE" in orange across his chest is buzzing out.
I wonder for a second if I'm supposed to do something about this.
Should I tackle him?
He smile-nods at me and I smile slightly back.
The C.O. is a woman, sent to clear me for the main floor.
She pats me down and back up her hands lightly landing and lifting along the insides of my thighs.
"He get's to go out the gates twice a day to raise and lower the flag."
He's cleared to wear a hat.
Parts of his scull were stapled together.
A roadside bomb almost blew him apart.
"He couldn't stop getting DUIs"
He never lets the flag touch the ground.
He's sensitive about the dents in his head.