I watch the fresh meat check in. Some call the new inmates “fish”, but these cock-knockers can’t probably even float, let alone swim in this penitentiary. You should see them at their first meal. They don’t know where to sit, how to get to the food before the Spanish take all the best cuts. Shute, they ain’t even figured out that it ain’t smart to sit with people from other places. The long-termers give them a hard time for being out of place, even though most of ’em are geriatrics.
This fresh meat often has short sentences to serve, but I know 90% of it will be back again, after a brief spell outside. It’s in its blood. That’s why we often get whole families reunited in here. Three generations meeting on the inside. Scum.
They’ll fight in here. Break the rules. You think it bothers me? Not at all. They can rip each other’s faces off and throw each other from the highest floors for all I care. They can smash the marble walls with each other’s skulls, it don’t matter to me. I’m just a garbage man. I just drag the waste away when the dust settles.
There are so many dumb-asses in here – they ain’t even figured this is an open prison. They get their prison bracelet clamped on their arm, and they figure they’re trapped – if they try to escape the facility that they’ll be identified and shot. That’s bull crap. It’s low security here – they could up and leave through the front door at any time – nobody’d stop ’em. Truth is there ain’t nowhere to go much around here – just a bunch of other low-security pens.
They’ll do their time. Get out. I’ll see their candy asses next year. And they’ll get a new bracelet on their arm. Their arm will be older, feebler. But the bracelet will still say the same thing: “All Inclusive at the Hotel Griego Mar, Costa Del Sol”.