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what prison is like (part 19) - parrots You might imagine the average inmate is uneducated and ignorant, with a very poor vocabulary, and I’d tell you that was often just the tip of the iceberg. Add abusive upbringings, chemical imbalances, substance abuse and addiction, severe anger issues and a slew of other negatives and you have the potential beginnings of a vile, violent career criminal. Communication is a big issue with most men because they don’t have the vocabulary, and were often brought up that expressing your feelings equals weakness. One thing is certain; there are few typical things about inmates you can count on. They are as diverse as the general population - those of you not out stealing, assaulting, murdering. For someone with a vocabulary, and a bit of intelligence, listening to the average inmate speak becomes painful rather quickly. There is a great deal of repetition, and parroting. Sentences that should be five words long are double that because they are crowded with unnecessary filler. For instance: As it should be: “Two days ago I went to the store and they were out of milk. I was angry.” Out of the mouth of a typical inmate: “Two fucking days ago I went to the fucking store and they were fucking out of fucking milk. I was fucking angry as fuck.” - you may think there are just way too many fucks in there, but it is not an exaggeration. There were plenty of people who talked this way ALL THE TIME. You also have the people who, for whatever reason, feel the need to ask you if you understand them, at the end of nearly every sentence they utter. It comes in 2 forms: “You know what I mean?” and “You know what I’m saying?”. This may seem like no big deal until you hear it over and over again, to the point where you actually want to stop the person for a moment and ask them if they realize they are repeating themselves? But you don’t dare do something like that around unstable halfwits who would just as easily pound you into the ground as loan you a pen, or let you borrow some coffee. The typical names you hear inmates give each other also get parroted a lot. Bro, Homey, Fool and were the top ones I heard all the time. I guess it was just a version of Dude or Man, utilized extensively by inmate populations. It’s one thing when you hear one or two, maybe even half a dozen men referred to as “Fool” but to hear it from 15 different directions is bizarre. It would be like deciding to call everyone Buddy, Pal and Friend. You’d hear those three words bouncing off the walls constantly and think you were having aural hallucinations. Remember that sample sentence? Well, “Two days ago I went to the store and they were out of milk. I was angry.” can very easily turn into something like; “Bro, two days ago I fucking went to the fucking store, right? And like they were out of fucking milk, Bro! I was fucking angry, Bro, you know what I’m saying?”. Imagine every sentence, out of dozens of mouths, spewing loudly all day and most of the night, all around you. That sort of idiotic banter, laden with profanity and stupidity. Bragging and boasting about the same things, talking loudly to people that are less than two feet from you, and really never saying anything at all. Just squawking and preening. This is but one negative aspect of the inmate population. As a whole, we were indeed the despicable people you would expect us to be, with very few redeeming qualities. We were also vulnerable, friendly, deceitful, honest, dangerous, loving, loyal, careless, courageous. We were fucking humans, just like you, Dog. |
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