Finesse

The task today at the start of the shift was to explain to an eighteen-year-old violent serial rapist that it was no accident he was in protective custody. We had tried to put him in four other housing areas and he had "PC'd up" out of every one- asking to be transferred because he felt threatened. His isn't a particularly high-profile case. His face hasn't been on TV or in the papers. He just can't keep his mouth shut, can't stop talking about his case.

We had a conversation in his cell. Between his attitude and his crimes, this jail, a prison or something very similar will be his living environment for most of the rest of his life. He needs to learn how to survive in it. A big part of that will be not talking. He didn't get it. He only told people about his case who were his 'friends' so that can't be the problem. Too stupid to know that he's stupid... constantly whining for the world to change to his desires so that he doesn't have to make the effort to change.

That was the first part of my day, giving fatherly advice to a rapist.

The second incident was preventing an assault, investigating it, moving housing assignments around. Good, pro-active jailin'. Nothing happened. No injuries, no new charges. Finessed what would, five years ago, have been a balls-to-the-wall brawl with three involved inmates, two officers and 72 spectator inmates who could have watched or picked sides. I used to live for that. I still miss it.