“My Tuna Brine Milkshake brings all the boys to the yard” – Kelis (I think)

16 Mar

My little lady keeps the lorry load of letters coming. That’s a lot of ‘L’ there.

I’ve got more pictures in this weeks post and have requisitioned a roll of tape from an empty landing officer. I came here a first time offender and in 3 weeks I’m an opportunist thief 🙂

Tomorrow I’m working with the evening food cart. This means I get to go on the food delivery rounds. Sunday’s evening meal is a cold option from a selection of 4, varying for dietary and religious requirements. Going door to door to inmate’s festering pits is likely to offer some eye-opening sights.

Sunday – Day 21

3 weeks in Wandsworth done tonight – its enough for most people but I’m getting a month of Sundays.

By now, days slip by and life has no real dramas. My biggest worry is that I don’t curb my appetite now I work in the Kitchen. But I’m safe, I have friends and have a good run of the Wing. Well as good a run as any prisoner can have. Compared to my peers, I’m a leisure suit larry. While they’re banged up, I’m making sandwiches in the servery or doing my laundry in the worker’s cleaning room. It’s not exactly Center Parcs but it’s normality and exactly what you need to keep yourself sane.

It’s funny what you can get used to in life, how you can adjust to new scenarios – the mind is an amazing bit of kit. Just a month ago I was driving around Essex, cycling to work, jogging on the beach, getting ready for my Sister’s wedding. My time was devoted to family, work and friends, now my topics of mirth are a shade darker. I jog around an exercise yard, teeming with hundreds of Britain’s hardest criminals. I witness bullying daily from authority, cook dinner with men who won’t taste anything other than a prison meal this side of the next 20 years; and I can hack it.

In the few weeks I’ve been inside, I’ve seen so much new to me, I’m actually pleased for the experience. It’s something that many people will only ever wonder about and with good reason too. Who needs to be here? But if life gives you lemons, then I’ll start pouring my glass of lemonade.

That said, I still feel isolated more than I’d like, from those I love. Then it dawns on you again, what the punishment really is – loss of the freedom to be around your loved ones. Missing your child’s birth, your friend’s wedding, a funeral, so many thing’s that can’t be re-made, re-enacted, making your time less boring inside is one thing, but not being there for those that matter; that hurts.

Exercise is called at 8.30 today, so fortunately I have had a fair bit of free time outside. The guy’s make a curry again around lunch time, while two of my pals discuss shipping rules and territorial waters on recent drug seizures. I focus my mind on penning letters but can’t help but smirk at both their clear indepth knowledge of this niche area of discussion and how frequently such topics are brought up. Not exactly something that someone on the outside talks about over a Sunday lunch.

This afternoon inmates are served cold dinners which are delivered to their cell doors. As a servery worker, I await warmly, what sights I can expect from going door-to-door, the local’s digs. I may yet avoid this pleasure but I shan’t count my chickens.

George at a loose end and without having received our prison shop(Canteen) forms, has pre-empted his weekly order and written it while I was out of the cell. I have a load of letters to reply to, so I’ll save the shopping list until I get some down-time.


Some time passes…………….

I didn’t avoid the food delivery, but I did have a chuckle. The highlight being pale fat bellies, one particular gem had developed the skill of using his paunch to clasp a packet of tobacco. This man was known until this point as ‘Milk Nipple’, for wearing a t-shirt with a dribble stain across his left chest. It gives the appearance of a lactating mammary. I don’t know what I’ll refer to him now, hopefully I’ll never need to again, soon enough.


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