“Yooo!”, Brooklyn popped up
screaming, “That chick just flashed her titties!”
Mikai jumped up and moved to the window
Brooklyn was looking through. There was a woman down the hall in a
cell towards the back, next to the poo cell. She was looking out the
window, but not at Mikai or Brooklyn. She was mouthing the word
“phone” to someone near the phones.
She lifted her shirt again.
“Oh shit! This girl is showin’ her
titties,” Mikai said excitedly.
“She ain’t got nothin’ on my
wife’s titties!”
Mikai has a habit of telling us in
great detail how “hot” his wife was and how great the sex was.
In great detail.
They sat at the window waiting for her
to do it again, but she never did.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
Being in the pee cell for the 3rd
day in a row was driving everyone crazy, especially Mikai.
“They better let me outta here soon
or I’m going to snap,” Mikai said, screaming at no one. He jumped
up and started doing push ups, then sit ups, and then jumping jacks
in the tiny space. He did them loudly and angrily. He jumped off the
floor and began punching the air with great aggression and then he
let out a primal scream.
A female C.O. walked past the window.
“What the hell is he doing?,” she
asked.
“The blond haired chick just looked,
asking what the hell you were doing?,” Brooklyn said to Mikai.
“That’s because she wants my
dick,” the 48 year old, married man with nine kids said, still
furiously punching the air.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
“What do you do outside of here?,”
Brooklyn asked me.
“A lot. For one, I write.”
“Write what?”
“Screenplays,” I said in the most
nonchalant way possible.
“I just wrapped a movie with my
production team.”
“Wow! Really?”
I explained the entire of process of
making my movie from the pitch, to the writing, auditions, and
filming. Mikai and Brooklyn were fascinated. I told them about our
film-making friends and their weird projects. I told them about the
celebrities that come to screenings, and my own run in with Jeremy
Piven.
“He was coming up the aisle,” I
said with excitement, “I was basically blocking him from the coming
up the aisle, so I could get a picture with him. Well, he walked up
to me, put his hand on my shoulder, and said…'Excuse me', as he
pushed me aside,” I said, beaming.
“What!?,” Brooklyn said, confused.
“I know, right?,” I exclaimed,
trying to jokingly hype up an otherwise shitty celebrity encounter.
“Who the fuck is Jeremy Piven?,”
Brooklyn asked.
“Ari from Entourage. Spence from the
Ellen show from the 90s…”
“Oh, yeah…the Ellen show,” he
said sarcastically.
This brought the conversation to
movies. Brooklyn knew nothing almost about movies. I had to tell him
what Superbad was.
Mikai, on the other hand, knew a
surprising amount of movie trivia.
“Charlize Theron in Monster…yo, she
DESERVED that Oscar!”
Mikai went on to talk about some of his
favorite movies. Movies like Gone With the Wind, Citizen Kane, and 12
Angry Men. We talked for hours about the ins and outs of movies and I
got to go on a geek rant about the philosophy behind The Matrix.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
“Pack your shit up! You’re
moving,” Hard Ass said, after opening our cell.
“Are we going to 8?,” Brooklyn
asked.
“Yep.”
“What’s on Block 8?,” I asked.
“It’s where we go until they find
a spot on a regular block for us,” he explained.
It was late, maybe ten at night, and
Block 8 was quiet. It looked a lot more run down than the block I was
on before. Block 8A was the halfway house for the prison. It’s
where inmates were kept until they could be moved. Because we’re
P.C.s, we had to be housed together and not with other inmates. Each
cell had two beds, so I knew we’d be paired off.
I prayed to Penn Jillette that I wasn’t
with Poppi. It’d be hours of complete silence. I prayed to Rupaul I
wouldn’t get stuck with Mikai.
“Anderson and Brookyln! You’re in
112. Mikai and Poppi! 113.”
Praise Ru! The cells looked very worn
due to the constant in and out traffic. There were biblical scribbles
written on the wall, by what appeared to be someone having a
religious breakdown. I didn’t really care. We had an actual bed to
sleep in.
