Transfer to Blythe Jail

Yesterday morning i chose to seek an „internal solution to my problem” (of being harrased by an inmate trustee) and the payoff came much sooner than i thought it would. But, instead of the philosophical insight that i expected, the solution came in a very material form. Rather than attacking the other inmate (which was my „old school” inclination) i released my irritation over his behavior and addressed the real problem: being woke up in the middle of the night and often kept awake by incessant noise.
The trustee only made himself a target of my underlying frustration over the noise levels in the cell i was in The noise was excessive, to say the least, because of the cell's location in a high traffic hallway and also because noisy and dissruptive inmates who yell and bang on the doors for no good reason are routinely placed in the cells adjacent to the one that i was in. So instead of „punishing” the intrusive trustee with a „golden shower” (spraying urine on him through the door), which probably would have only made things worse by instigating the trustee to find some way to „punish” me in return (which is also why crime escalates in the wider world when society turns to „punishment” as a solution), i instead sent a kite to the classification sergeant, requesting that some solution to the noise problem be found (withuot specifically mentioning the incident with the trustee). I had hoped, at best, to be allowed to have a pair of foam rubber earplugs (which they sell on commisary at other jails but not here in Riverside), but to my delight and surprise i got something much better.
I got moved to a completely different and far more comfortable jail! I'm still in Riverside County, of course, but they packed me up and drove me some 90 miles East to a jail in Blythe, which is right on the Arizona-California border along Interstate 10. The cell they put me in has a real metal bunk (with a top bunk over a lower which provides a little shade from the blarring florescent lights that are standard in most jail cells these days) a complete mattress, a 20 inch color T.V.! And even hot water on tap (for coffee). And the food is better!
I can't believe my luck. I even got a clean new blanket that is at least twice the thickness of the blanket i had at the other jail in Indio (and it's not torn up either). And of course, most of all, it' quiet! Relative to the cell i was in at Indio this one is like a morgue. I slept last night like a baby.
The only problem here could end up being a blessing in disguise. The problem is that i now have to be transported 90 miles for all court appearances. The ride can be a bit uncomfortable, but getting „out and about” once and a while is pleasant also. I know i won't enjoy all the hassles that go along with being transported (getting chained up and often waiting for hours in featureless holding cells). But the peace and quiet alone is more than worth it!

Golden Showers

For the last several nights, including just tonight, I have been awakened in the middle of the night by a large "skinhead" trustee who covertly bangs on the door of the cell I am in as he mops past in the hall. So for the last couple of nights I banged back on the door and called him every name I could think of to try to discourage him. It seems I only encouraged him instead.

So my next plan was to resort to "old school" prison tactics. I emptied a pack of jelly which is like a fast food restaurant "ketchup pack", only twice as long, so it can be inserted through the door crack. Then I poked a few small holes in the unopened end. Now, I have only to insert the device through the door, and the next time that trustee mops past my door I will fill it with urine (if I wanted to be really mean I would mix in some feces, but I've never gone that far before), then squeeze my side closed so the liquid sprays out through the holes on the other side of the door, "giving the punk a golden shower".

But, I say: "was", because my conscience will no longer allow me to do it. I have no real anger toward the trustee. I just want him to stop banging on my door. And it's easy to rationalize "teaching him a lesson". But I won't. Because I believe now that such rationalizations are self-deceptive and destructive. I will seek a solution to this problem inside myself instead.