Inmated

Randy’s smooth ride on the heavily armored bus was eerily quiet and found him consumed by the heady cocktail of two jiggers of fear, a splash of remorse, and a twist of fate, for, his life was on the rocks.

He caught a 12-year stretch for separating fools from their money by illegal internet means--fraud and grand theft--but reality’s pinch of prison didn’t hit him until that bus ride.
After two hours’ in-processing, a medical check and a 90 minute orientation, the uniformed guard jokingly referred to as “Life in Your New Neighborhood,” which returned only mumblng, stares, and a murderous look from the man with a raised middle finger, it was time for a walk.


This 'white collar crimes' convict wasn’t sure he had a single skill or mechanism to survive life inside.

With bedding laden arms and handcuffed, Randy’s heartbeat was in his throat on the walk to his cell, a 200-yard walk that seemed like a 10-mile, uphill trudge experiencing aches that weren't there.

Less than 20 feet from his cell, one of the guards snickered, “Oh, you’ll love your cellmate, Louie, and I’m sure he’s gonna love a tight, new piece of ass,” and San Quentin’s newest resident, “M27696“, fainted into a heap onto a threadbare blanket and stained pillow.