Spoiler alert, I didn’t get sexually assaulted. I recall having an argument with someone, my brother I think, about how soap can never be dirty. I challenge anyone who believes that to use soap off the floor of a prison shower stall. It is a cardinal sin to even step in the showers without shower shoes on, for they are so vile.
Needless to say, I left it there for a scavenger to collect for recycling. Surely to be resold at cut rate prices. I suppose the age old addage applies here, “you get what you pay for”. I’ll spend the extra $0.36, thanks.
Despite being so gross I have to admit the showers aren’t so bad, unlike county jail where the only privacy you had was a 4′ divider on either side of you; and water that shut off after 60 seconds. Here in prison there are shower curtains for each individual stall, fully surrounded by walls, and you can shower for as long as you’d like whenever you want. Excluding count of course 4:00 PM, 9:30PM, 12AM, 3AM, and 6AM.
Keeping it short this time,
This place is gross, there’s just no way around it. Maybe it’s human nature or perhaps adaptation but no one seems too bothered by it. No one but me that is, a proudly self described germaphobe.
In the restroom there are two soap dispensers which ran out 2-3 days ago so people simply stopped washing their hands, ew. Fortuneately on my second day here someone gave me half a dozen bars of soap. Each morning when I wake up I take a bar, break it in half, and leave the halves on the sinks to combat the inevitable spread of disease that’s sure to afflict me. Prison is bad enough already, I don’t want to be sick too.
To give this nex part context I must first point out that literally every urinal has piss on the floor; I don’t know why or how but there is. Further, the showers spray over their thresholds soaking the entire bathroom floor thoroughly – mixing with everything. Obviously, this means it’s impossible to walk out of there with clean shoes and as such the floors throughout the unit are filthy.
Someone whose name I shall omit, someone I consider a friend was tearing away at a piece of steak (more on that another time) when it slipped out of his hands and landed on the floor. Laughing and without hesitation he picked it up, said “30 second rule”, then continued to eat it. I feel nauseous even writing about it.
The thing is, that’s normal in here. On the same day I witnessed someone cook 15 pounds of rice in a stained, and I’ll assume dirty, mop bucket before serving it out to a half dozen people. Ashamedly, myself included – I didn’t want to be disrespectful. Yuck.
Making it through,