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                   ROAD TRIP by Peter Sokolowskyj

             Friday, 11 May 2007

 

Up an addem boy’s! Rise and shine the head screw yells out at four thirty a.m, The Max Security B -Wing suddenly springs to life, its prison Farm Transfer day being when prisoners from the main max- security prison are sent to a medium low density security prison farm that was three hours away. The early muster roared out from behind the max-security walls terrifying the early risers on their way to work. The inmates were neatly dressed to impress a judge perhaps for court normally but this time they are setting off on a three hour road trip to their new destination having to serve the rest of their time to endure more hard labour so the department of Corrections expectects society somehow to believe.

 Transfer time is complete and we are all cuffed together for the ride while the luggage follows behind in the chase car with three heavily armed guards aboard. Each of us are seated in the smaller paddy wagon, six totally, three on each side as the bun wagon is divided in half by a rusty steel plate so we don’t get up each others throat. The paddy wagon is old, worn out, rusty and stinks like a loo. Paint has peeled off here and there and where it hasn’t, it’s richly decorated with engravings by former travellers that rode the same journey previously before us.

 

Someone didn’t change their underwear and the odour of urine blends with dead feet, rotten socks, sweaty sand shoe and mixed farts. Shit no air-conditioning and the air is restored by a single fan up front recycling the current stench menu. The vehicle crawls its way out of several bottle necks to finally clear the congested city. A breath of fresh air upfront excites us all while travelling behind a very large garbage truck displaying its tasty contents then Oh God no! A bloody shit-tanker pulls up along side leaking its juices onto the road under our wheels. Both vehicles emit thick black smoke spewing from their stacks; adding more sensational flavours into the vents making the trip more commemorative.

From the access hole I see the two screws in front but the back is mostly dark; the rear window has been closed for security reasons so the only light emitting was the front airhole. The seat was solid hard wood with no padding at all. My arse was in continuos pain while we were compressed together. Imagine three hours of this plus traffic jam delays alongside a shit tanker and garbage truck.

 

 The ole wagon’s steel mesh was cluttery, alive in conversation, playing that ole favourite tune the with rattle prattle rockn’ roll off beat rhythm “The jail house rock for me” so it was impossible to take a nap what so ever. The shockies were absolutely shot while those wicked screws in front found every dam pot hole they could making the ride more unbearable. Behind the steel plate in front of me the other three inmates brag that ole sweet prison bullshit proclaiming how wonderful prison life is and how lucky they are returning home to their natural habitat back again for more! A free bed with meals included courtesy of her majesties and the state.     

Oh blimey! Someone farted, its rich of Muckdognalds type flavour; boy you can taste the slack Mack going rotten then smelling it as it died. Then suddenly grumbling and growling follows which certainly was insanity and madness alive on wheels. Making matters worse the two screws in front pigged out on a garlic snack where the fumes mixed with the toxics in the back.

Talk about one amazing road trip, a bunch of loonies behind the tin work in front, then two mad men left and right while I’m stuck in the sandwich in the middle crushed shitless. I scored the two fattest neighbours of all to be squashed together with. Every bump in the road brings the three of us more closely together on each side cursing and swearing most of the way. Of course the bloody time goes by slower than ever; it’s like winning the jail house lotto with these amazing dividens. No comfort, no leg room crushed together with two madmen who fart and stink. Talk about doing hard time man, this bloody road trip had to be the worst part of my lagon and the zaniest time ever while serving at her Majesties prisons.

 

Shit! Never tell this tale to your children or friends it’s no fairy tale other than your worst nightmare it certainly was mine; only tell it to another crim or a cop you hate. My only wish was to have perhaps an accident or prang even perhaps over turn but we all know shit just happens so I have the pleasure to share with those how shit just happened and believe me this was pure shit. A three hour trip takes five hours of just hard time of misery full of insanity; yet these bastards in front come back to the joint time and time again for more; shit imagine what serving life can expect! Cheers.