Lola goes to jail

Candy has several connections with the county jail. Her son did a year there for robbery, and then another year for parole violation. During that time, Candy volunteered to teach a life skills class to a small group of the jail's more trusted inmates (I presume that cleaning and housekeeping were not included in the syllabus. Ooh, burn). Also, as a journalist, Candy often visits the jail and courthouse complex to stickybeak through other peoples' arrest records for the edification of the newspaper reading public. As a result, she's pretty tight with the warden of the jail.

One of Candy's life skills class students, Christina, was due to be released from jail on March 3, and was having a little difficulty finding a car to use immediately on her release date. Apparently, it's tough to find anyone to sell a car to you when the transaction begins with a collect call from the local slammer. Hearing about Christina's troubles, Candy immediately volunteered that I would sell my car to her, and set up a date for a test drive with the warden.

Candy and I drove my little car to the jail where Christina and the warden were waiting for us in the parking lot. Candy and I climbed in the back, Christina got in the drivers seat and the warden in the passengers seat next to her. We did a few laps of the parking lot, then the warden told Christina to exit the lot and take the car onto the road.

Christina hadn't driven for a while, but she still had a valid drivers licence and her driving skills seemed fine. During the drive, it occured to me that I should have brought my headscarf and oversized sunglasses (I wanted to look the part if we got into a Thelma & Louise situation). After about 15 minutes of driving the car around Gallatin, the warden told Christina to head back to the jail, which she did. Naturally, I was a little disappointed that the test drive didn't escalate into a wild cross-country crime spree.

When we got back, two great things happened. Christina agreed to buy the car, and the warden gave Candy and I a tour of the jail. You guys, I was so excited. Jails intrigue me. When I was 10, my mum's police sergeant friend gave my sister and I a tour of the North Sydney police station lockup, and I've been hooked ever since. I've been to plenty of decomissioned jails - Mansfield Reformatory, Moundsville Penitentiary and Alcatraz to name a few, but this was my first time inside an actual working jail.

The jail is a three storey building, with each storey split into four quadrants. There is an indoor observation tower at the centre of the four quadrants, spanning the three levels. Candy and I got to go inside the observation tower, which is fronted by two-way mirrors. It was totally voyeuristic and I loved it. My observations from the tower lead me to conclude that the favoured leisure activity for male inmates is playing cards; for female inmates, doing each other's hair.

We then went inside one of the female inmate pods to see the exercise yard. I felt really awkward because this involved walking right by some of the female inmates. Luckily, I wasn't heckled - they just looked up and then went back to doing eachother's hair. One girl recognised Candy from the life skills class, and they had a little reunion.

The exercise yard was depressing. It was a concrete room with no natural light, and a small vent on the wall. In fact, the inmates do not get to see natural light for the duration of their incarceration (with the exception of inmates on work release, like Christina). The warden pointed out a crumpled up piece of paper in the exercise yard, which she told us the inmates used to play ball games.

We then went on to the kitchen, where several inmates were running the trays from lunch through the dishwasher. Candy commented that the food smelled great, and the warden offered to get her a tray. I am positive that Candy would have accepted the offer if I had not shot her my patented withering look.

At the conclusion of the tour, I was ready to buy a magnet to commerate my visit (I collect them), and I was a little disappointed to find that the prison did not sell any. In fact, if I have any criticisms about the county jail, it's that the facility completely lacks a store for visitors to purchase tchotkes and other trinkets. What's with that?

I couldn't leave without a souvenir though, so the warden was kind enough to give me a copy of the jail's commissary order form. Inmates can buy a really weird selection of items -- like individual sachets of mayonnaise. Or something called a "Nutrageous" (offered at the very sensible price of 82c). I am going to scan the list in when I get home from uni tonight so we can discuss.