Tempest in the Hoosegow

There are so many words for jail: hoosegow, mainline joint, skinner joint, stoney lonesome, con college, glasshouse, bucket, club fed, greybar hotel, big house, slammer, calaboose, castle, cooler, country club, crowbar hotel, digger, farm, guardhouse, hole, joint, jug, juvie, pen, pokey, rock, sneezer, stockade, the clink to name a few.  I am partial to hoosegow, it sounds like a place you don't want to ever go.  Well Monday through Friday that is where I am finding myself, in the stoney lonesome.

How could dear, sweet, little, ol' me have come to such a fate?  Well a paycheck my friends will make many us reassess the merits of going to the joint.  Many things are not so bad about this new job.  I am downtown, the building is much more secure than any north county library, and my phone rarely rings.  Okay, that might have something to do with my phone being a little broken, but they are going to fix it soon.  I have a very large office, which echoes like a cave.  And honestly everyone is being very nice to me.  Who knew you would meet so many nice people in the clink?

I do get frisked every time I go to my office because I work in a secured part of the building.  I am being checked to make sure I a not taking inside anything I shouldn't.  No gum, cell phones, or scissors for me.  Try opening a sealed box without a sharp implement sometime and you will get my situation.  I am also learning all types of new terminology: contraband, boats, pods, commissary, and sally port have become a part of my everyday lingo. 

My life has changed in so many ways in such a short period of time.  Part of me is a little shocked by the changes, but I will adjust to my new normal.  The new normal includes coming home and sitting down to dinner with my wife more often.  Actually, sometimes I even get to walk a block down and meet her for lunch.  We actually talk about things we will do together when we get home.  In the end I think the extra time is worth spending my days in the crowbar hotel.