Originally posted by DENNIS
OK...jail stories. Nine or ten years back, I was being deported for not having immigration papers and in the process, I spent a few days in as many
jails between home and the border. While in the Ensenada lock-up with a bunch of really scary street people, I befriended the mob in an unusual
manner.
The jailers had recently started to feed the prisoners as a result of pressure from human rights groups and the fare was usually a watery soup with
four semi fresh tortillas.....more if you asked. I don't know how the soup tasted because I passed on it, but the tortillas came in handy.
One of my inmate brothers had a violent case of the trots and had to spend a lot of time squatting over the hole in the ground that served as a toilet
and he asked me if I had some paper he could use. The room was definitly in need of room service.
Anyway, I said no I didn't, but use these, and I handed him my tortillas. He looked at me like I was nuts, took the tortillas and applyed them where
most needed.
All of the other inmates quietly thought that was at once sacrilegious, but brilliant as most of them had the same G.I. distress and no paper, and I
instantly became one with my roomys.
.
[Edited on 12-11-2012 by DENNIS] |
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