Next time you are collecting a friend or relative from the County Jail, you'd best be up early. Really early. For whatever weird bureaucratic reason, prisoners are released weekdays at the ungodly time of 5:00 am. I discovered this obscure fact because I was there on Friday morning in the pre-dawn hours, waiting for a customer. Yes, Hermione, ex-cons need a limousine service too.
It was a surreal setup. Someone not related to the prisoner ordered and paid for the car. At 04:30 am I was at a nominated local address waiting for the wife of the jailbird. The clickety-clack of her heels heralded her approach as she appeared out of the darkness, dressed appropriately for the occasion. What that means, I'll leave to your imagination.
We drove to the jail. The institutional flourescent lights of the processing center lit a couple of groups of people waiting for their soon-to-be-free men. At that time, under that circumstance, it was all so sad. I'm old fashioned enough to think that jails are plain depressing, even if someone is leaving one. The wife went to wait with the other folks; I parked across the street.
There's no way around it, I was as curious as cat. What would he look like? What was he in for? How much time did he serve? Call it unseemly prying, but there is something compelling about criminality. I sometimes wonder how far we are from being that guy behind bars. Despite my best intentions, could I ever end up doing time?
After about twenty minutes, three figures came towards me. The wife, the husband, and an unknown guy walked across the road laughing and smiling. Mystery man (his attorney?) wished my man well, then sped off in a big fat Audi. As for my customer, he was surprisingly ordinary. Dressed in a suit, without a tie, his hair was longer than I thought was allowed inside. And he was young, thirty at most. Welcoming him to his limo, I introduced myself, shook his hand, and asked where he'd like to go.
"Dunkin' Donuts", he said. "Coffee's shit in there", motioning his head toward the jail. He looked me directly in the eye, and his handshake was strong.
That was the most sobering thing. He was way ordinary: frighteningly normal. Perhaps I'm not as far away from the dark side as I'd hoped.
Technorati: Chauffeur, Limousine Life, Jailhouse Rock, County Jail
7 comments:
well, he came out in a suit...xoxo
how was his upper body strength? really developed? that's a real tell regarding the length of his incarceration.
Ah-hah, Savannah. He didn't seem particularly big north of the equator, but I didn't take a good look.
Mostly I noticed that he looked pale. Green almost, especially by comparison with everyone else around here.
That's what happens when you don't see sun for a while, I guess.
Man, I'd be so curious about why he was in there! I'd have to burn up the internet doing searches!
There is a thing going around now where you send your friends a message saying "You saw me in a police car. What do you think I did?" It's kind of fun seeing what your friends think you'd be up to.
OMG, really, Don? I have not heard of that particular game. I imagine your friends said the only reason you would be in a cruiser was because you'd been made Commissioner of Police in Vegas.
Right?
My DAUGHTER suggested Road Rage! My friends are much nicer. One said some 'white collar' crime. At least no one came up with anything really nasty.
i have a fairly good idea of what he was, and most of them do look and act normal.how weird for you wombi, remind me sometime to tell you about when i used to run a prison program...
Sweet kid, your daughter, Don. (!) Perhaps she knows of what she speaks?
*laughing*
Do tell, Enigma. I'm getting more an more intrigued about this guy.
Prison program? Details, please.
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