A Tale of Three C’s

            Three white guys whose names all begin with C stroll around this compound. Much of what I consider problematic with prisoners is represented in the three Cs. For I fear, as a lay psychoanalyst and observer of human behavior, that prison has done nothing except bring out the worst in them.

            C#1 is on his second trip to “the rodeo,” that’s what guys doing time three or four years at a time – the installment plan – for fifteen or twenty years call it. The guy is an accomplished artist. He can draw or paint anything. Beautiful cards; posters; embroidery. But, he’s a scumbag. He runs dirty hustles all over the compound. Want a watch? See him. He gets ten to twelve watches smuggled in. Religious medallions too.

            Then there’s the forgery scam. Guy wants money for drugs, or gambling, or a cellphone. C#1 got hold of a “college transcript” form. Inmate pays him $50; C#1 creates a “college transcript” showing the inmate pulled A’s in his classes. Transcript sent home with a heartfelt letter. “Mom, I’m working hard, getting my education. The next class cost $275 (or $375 or $150) and I have to pay by next week.” Mom, who’s seen her son come in and out of prison three, maybe four times, willingly sends the money in. Trouble is, the guy isn’t in college.

            C#1 partners with a notorious child rapist to con guys on their electronics. The partner – a mid-thirties white guy, who looks like he stepped out of a GQ ad, is doing twenty years for forcible penetration of a pre-teen when he was eighteen. At a higher level, this guy would try and run under the radar. Fear is an effective deterrent to a lot of nonsense in high-level security facilities; fear isn’t very prevalent down here.

            So this guy – who works as an electrical vocational aide – teams up with C#1. You need new wiring on your headphones and C#1 tells you, “I got a guy.” Problem is, your speakers are coming out, replaced by older, crackly ones in the shop. And your speakers? They’re going in someone else’s headphones – for a price of course.

            And C#1, well he’s gone from church group to church group. He’s a Jehovah Witness now. He’ll spout doctrine and verse all the while pocketing his thirty pieces of silver.

            Then we come to C#2. This guy has the skin color of the Speaker of the House. He too is on his return trip to the rodeo – third in all. He lost most of his twenties, part of his thirties, and now at 41 and with two years remaining – his entry into his forties. C#2 is a prick; sorry, but there is no other way to describe him. He is angry, hateful, bigoted, and smart enough to be dangerous. He is a very smart man and that may bother me more than anything else. He’s smart and yet so dumb to the reality of life around him. He sees color and class and judges by those arbitrary lines.

            C#2 is inmate assistant to the Catholic deacon who comes every Sunday – 52 weeks a year – and leads a dozen or inmates in worship (once a month a priest comes with the deacon to perform confession and communion). This seventy-year old man felt called in retirement to work in prison, ministering to Catholics behind bars. His assistant professes to be devout, yet his words – about blacks, Hispanics, gays, and women – speak louder than his faith.

            I asked him the other day – as he was charging his usurious interest rate on store-boxed ramen noodles and cookies, “What kind of store-box would Jesus run?” His answer: “Fuck you Larry. Jesus never had to do time with these assholes.” Couldn’t argue with that logic!

            C#2 represents all the separation you see in here. Guys feel no loyalty, no comradeship, no empathy that “we’re all in this together.” So, prejudice and ignorance fester and guys are drawn to crazy theories – on both ends of the spectrum.

            “What’s in it for me?” That’s the mantra of C#2. And, I don’t recall seeing that anywhere in the Sermon on the Mount. I can’t help thinking old Karl Marx (the unfunny Marx brother!) must have coined his expression, “religion is the opiate of the masses,” inside a prison. Because in here, guys use religion exactly the opposite of what God intends. C#2 is an apostle alright, an apostle of anger, hatred, and separation.

            Finally there’s C#3. I must confess I am conflicted by #3. He can be charming – especially to your visitors when your paths cross in the VI room. I’ve seen him give to those without. But then … suffice it to say, this isn’t his first rodeo – nor will it be his last rodeo. Simply put, he runs too many hustles, is too dirty, to avoid detection.

            Need cologne? See C#3. Certain religions are allowed access to “prayer oils.” C#3 fronts dozens of orders through Muslim inmates. The bottles come in; he breaks them down by dram. We’re not talking “Sandalwood” and “Myrrh” available on the commissary. We’re talking CK, Polo, Kenneth Cole, Hermes, you name it. And most of these guys have never worn cologne or aftershave so they bathe in it.

            Then there’s his phone scam. He sells “Google numbers” for $25.00 a pop. A phony local address and one of his 100 local Google numbers gets you $0.99 per minute calls instead of $2.00 or $3.00 per minute via DOC’s provider GTL. C#3 recycles the numbers to new inmates when current “users” transfer or go home.

            What C#3 doesn’t realize is the Feds (who are already looking at him for something else) know all about his “Google scam.” A few months ago, DOC put out a directive prohibiting money orders for “fronted long-distance numbers.”

            Finally, C#3 had his wife send in “going home” clothes to guys with thumb drives sewn in the waistband or hemline. One of those thumb drives found their way into another building and was confiscated during “computer crisis #1.” And yes, the powers that be here know he’s dirty.

            C#3 sits around reading books by TV preachers telling everyone he’s down to 15 months at which time he’ll leave and live a fairy tale life with his wife. I think it’s called cognitive dissonance; your behavior is opposite your words. In here, its C#3 being C#3.

            I watch and shake my head. It’s no wonder two out of three guys are back inside within 36 months. The sad thing with the three Cs is they all have strong family support. They are all smart. They don’t need to run the prison cons; they don’t need the anger, the arrogance, the conniving. They have a chance at a real life outside of here. But, they blow it. They didn’t learn anything from their first trip (or trips) to “the rodeo.” This is a moral tale with no happy ending. I wouldn’t expect any less in here.