26772-047, C-Unit, Saint Paul, MNemail@emailaddress.com

He Said, “Are You A Real Killer?!” … I Laughed

With the wind high, and a mix of dust and pollen lurking around every corner, I was dying from allergies. My eyes were swollen and bloodshot red. Tears constantly flowing, as I couldn’t seem to escape the torture ensuing. To make matters worse, you can’t obtain affective medicine in prison. Making me SOL. But they don’t care, nor should I expect them to. All I knew was that I had to get some solace.

All I needed was a brief moment of comfort, so I could feel normal again. Surprisingly, I found that when walking the compound. For whatever reason, there seemed to be a build up of allergens within the housing unit. Making it unbearable to lay down, write, read or anything else to relax. With all the considered, I headed straight for the yard, where two softball games were being played.

As you can imagine, prison softball games are quite interesting to watch. A bunch of misfits throwing, batting, and occasionally getting hit by the ball. Thus, there are times I like to go out and root for my team. You see, every housing unit has at least one team. Sometimes two. So why wouldn’t you want to bring a victory back to the unit. Its all positive vibes. Or is it?

Above all else, it is still prison. With a lot of pent up anger and hostility. Especially if the inmate referee makes a bad call. Its hilarious to watch. So as a game was underway in front of me, I was chanting loudly and methodically. To shed light on the bad calls, and give good energy for the good plays. While doing so, someone barked in my direction, “Learn the f#cki%g rules before you start yelling!” Obviously, he is one of many who wears their emotions on their sleeves. A short guy, with a tear drop tattoo under his eye, and who was just called out on first base. For his chubby physique couldn’t quite run fast enough.

It was an unmistakable call, but he wanted to place blame and let his aggression out somewhere. Nonetheless, I didn’t entertain his negative vibes, or give in to his lure for comment. I kept on pushin’! Enjoying the game and getting rowdy with everyone else. It was a close game really, and my unit exploded when they hit a homerun with the bases loaded in the last inning of the game. Bringing not only a win for the game, but a win for the entire tournament back to the unit.

The celebration was short lived, as a guard quickly got on the loud speaker and announced a yard recall. Closing the yard for the night, and forcing the entire population back to their respective units. While walking pass the bleachers and towards the track, I felt someone was following me. I quickly looked to my side and saw the chubby short guy I pissed off earlier. Sensing an awkward encounter, I walked a little faster and took a detour towards the handball courts. Just as I stopped to talk to a few guys about the game, I see him again standing just a few feet from me.

“What the hell, I sure can’t shake this guy,” I thought! Finally, they opened the gates and I was provided a moment to get away from this psychotic guy. I never addressed him in my life, nor did I want to. Everyone gets rowdy at the prison softball games, and he knows this, so I don’t know what his problem was. While approaching my unit, I finally caught him riding my heels. Directly behind me. So I say, “Dude, what the hell is your problem?” He replied, ” Oh, I just wanted to see if you are a real killer!?”

In an aggressive, yet questionable manner. Regardless of the validity or intention of his request, I couldn’t help but explode in laughter. It was so bizarre, that I didn’t really know what to say. So I laughed it all the way off. Its a paradox that I live in, and this, is my day to day.

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