Derick leaves soon. He made me a nice parting gift: a jailhouse calendar, hand written on a sheet from our tablet. This way, I can do what he did, and attach it to our (my) locker with toothpaste, and cross off each day.
He also told me an amusing story. Apparently when he and I arrived, some of Derick's friends asked if I was gay.
When I arrived I didn't display my masculinity by punching the first person I met, but on the other hand I was not exactly strutting around the Day Room in assless chaps, singing Judy Garland songs. So I was a little perplexed why I was setting off more than one prisoner's gaydar.
"Well, you talk different than everyone else in here, kinda funny, and that sounds gay," Derick explained.
"I do?"
"You use big words and shit, and to a lot of guys, that just sounds gay."
Wow, I never new.
"But I told them it is just 'cause you went to college."
Glad he cleared that up.
Or maybe it was my look of shock and confusion when I walked by the shower back at the beginning of my sentence, and I saw a grown man lathering up while wearing his briefs. I did do a double-take, but only because I haven't seen anything quite that strange since junior high gym.
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2 comments:
Being from Balmore, I can tell you that noun – verb agreement is frowned upon. Also, try to throw in an “f” where a “th” belongs. For example – Hey it’s my 30th birfday. Unfortunately, I carried this “f” habit for most of my 20s.
Ha! Wish I had that sound advice before starting my time.
Actually, one thing I've noticed is how much more often I drop the F-Bomb into casual conversation. Not just the prisoners, but the COs and Administrators all curse like sailors...
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