The trip was long and I had much time to take in the scenery. I gazed out the window like a schoolboy on a field trip. Just to see cars and people was a treat. I saw houses and traffic lights. All these little things that are commonplace to many were now so new to me. I remembered how that not to long ago, I was free to roam as I wished. I realized once again that I no longer had that right.

We traveled towards the country. Where I used to live would be considered a suburb, but it was city compared to the country we were now in. I started to see a multitude of houses with American flags out front. I realized how different these people were from the people from where I lived. I was very apprehensive to be a city boy in the midst of these country folk. I knew I would have to adapt an attitude that would be acceptable to these “country bumpkins” who would now have charge of me.

People always ask about the food in prison. Is it really as bad as they say? Being as that people on the outside have heard how bad it is, people on the inside are not surprised that it is horrible. I have many stories on bad food. I won’t tell them all here, but will comment on its general distaste.

I once heard the average meal costs 17 cents a meal to serve. I believe it entirely. Think about how cheap the food must be to only cost 17 cents. We inmates are the dumping ground for every item that the good people of the world won’t buy. Does this food go to waste? No, it goes to us! Women? Drink? No! Food is by far the best perk of freedom!

With me being a prisoner and they being guards, there was little conversation between us. I was a little nervous with anticipation about where I was going, but glad to see some scenery that I had for so long been denied. The trip lasted about six hours and was uneventful except for a stop at a seven eleven.

The guards did not offer to get me anything, which I thought was a little rude. I had known this guard for a year. We weren’t great friends or anything, but we had a casual relationship. After eating jail food for a year, I would have loved to have anything from seven eleven! A slurpee, a hotdog, even the infamous Truck stopper hamburger would have been a singular treat. Nothing! Out of all the things I went through in prison, that one thing always stands out to me as being the most telling of the fact that I was now considered by the “good people” of being “not worth consideration”. Being denied a one dollar hotdog!

As I was walked through the door into the garage; I struggled along, trying to learn the penguin walk. By the time I got to the car, my ankles had taken a beating. It’s quite embarrassing, shuffling along. The chain drags on the floor and makes a sound that reminds you that you are nothing to the common world. No matter what kind of person you are; a hatred of the injustice, even if deserved, comes to the forefront of your mind.

The garage was just large enough to hold one car, maybe two. There were large garage doors at either end, but they were locked shut. I was put into the back seat of a police car
The driver of the vehicle was male, and he was escorted by a female officer. I was dressed in an orange jump suit with my chain accessories and placed in the back seat. A metal screen separated the front from the back.

After the guard had checked me out, they brought the chains. Looking back, I am glad that at least they locked my hands together in front. There was a chain that ran from my hands down to my feet which were locked into the ankle chains. It’s very uncomfortable, and quite difficult to walk! All thoughts of a timely escape are soon turned to ashes. When all was in readiness, the buzzing sound of the electronic lock rang loudly in my ears and the door was unlocked.