17. Did You Just Hit Me With A Fucking Lock?

Remember when I mentioned that I got into a tangle with another convict and won?  Well, you never really win.  Yesterday, Thursday the 19th to you, I had just gotten off of a really good visit with my cousins.  Alexa brought Meghan, my cousin from RI, whom I've previously mentioned, up for a visit.  We drank coffee and bullshitted and gossiped.  They left and Officer Handsy got me naked while talking about his wife and himself going to see the movie, Mirror, Mirror.

I left out of the shakedown room in a fairly good mood aside from the shame of spreading my ass cheeks so someone can look at your asshole and proceeded to hit the bathroom for a piss.  I was minding my own business, staring at the wall and whistling "Hoodrat Friend" by The Hold Steady when lightning went off in my head.  It staggered me some and the momentum made me surge forward and, as a result, piss all over myself.  I knew I'd been hit.  It's not a sensation that I am unfamiliar with.  I spun around while trying to stuff my stuff back in and expecting more.  If you're not knocked out snoring there's always more.  Now this next part is surreal, or was to me.  I saw the guy I'd fought with's friend standing there and he was kinda just looking through me, looking at some place back in my head.  His lack of forward moving aggression stopped me from advancing and I asked him calmly, "Did you just fucking hit me with a lock?" which was a stupid question as he was standing there holding a sock with a lock tied to the end.  (NOTE: Locks are rarely stuffed into a sock for hitting.  When you get to swinging it like that it will shift around inside too much making it less effective.  The lock is either tied to the end of the sock or to a belt.)

He had only hit me with a glancing blow not causing too much damage.  There was the usual head wound blood but he didn't put me away like he'd hoped.  He stood there looking at me and then just like a comedy movie he did the quick turn around and RAN.  SHOOM, he was out.  I took off after him but it was a short race.  You come out of the bathroom and can go left, which will run you straight into the guards, or right which leads you down a short dead-end hall lined with our cells.  He juked right and b-lined for his cell.  And made it.  It was a situation that, had I not just been hit with a lock, I would have laughed at.  As I rounded out of the bathroom he was trying to get his key into the lock on his cell like a b-movie actor in a zombie film.  By the time I got there he had shut his cell and just stood there looking at me.  Are you fucking kidding me?  As I stood there looking back at him a random guy comes out of his cell and says, "Hey honkey, you're bleedin', bro."  Uh, no shit.  Now, I wanted to scream  and yell death threats at this dude, (the dude who hit me, not the observant convict.) but if I'd done that the guards would get curious about the commotion and come down to check it out, ruining any chance I'd have to get at this asshole.  I wagged my finger at him instead in a 'well-played, sir." type of manner and went to wipe my head off.

There wasn't an excessive amount of blood at all and it left only a small nick.  It was the point of the thing that really pissed me off.  In my mind I was planning to kick the shit out of him at the next available chance.  In his mind he was probably thinking, "This honkey's gonna stab me."  He'd be correct if this was a situation where I had any more than just a year to do.  That would definitely be something I'd consider.  Not in this situation, though.  He did out fox me.  He didn't leave his cell the rest of the evening and after lock down he shot a kite requesting to be put into protective custody.

The only positive thing I can say is he didn't snitch (even though it would just be on himself).  His bunky told me that he wrote that he owed out too much money on the tables.  (gambling tables: a no-no, but generally overlooked)  I was at his cell waiting for him first thing in the morning.  He was already gone.  The most positive thing to come out of this is that there's nobody to retaliate against.  The guy I'd originally fought had rose out to another joint because of an unrelated incident, and now this guy's locked up.  If I had retaliated, and I would have, there's no way around it, it would have become an unending circle.  I mean it really would have got to sucking.  So at least it's over.  I can piss in peace.  It did ruin my good visit but as I'm writing this I know Al is bringing my boys to see me tomorrow so I have that.  That and probably total enlightenment on my deathbed.