Prison Diaries # 3 - Cake Wafit Infiltrates Control
The other day Cake Wafit arrived early for an 8:30 a.m. meeting in the prison. This brought her inside the jail before the usual administrative starting time, meaning most of the interior lights were off, the offices were shut down, and the guys in Control were watching Psi Factor on a large-screen t.v. Cake asked one of them (in a jovial, buddy-buddy kinda way) if the administration allowed the staff to watch t.v. during Control shifts and he said 'yeah'. She noted with interest, however, that before 9 a.m. rolled around he had turned off the television and pulled an extension cord back through the Control door and across the main thoroughfare of the jail, into the conference room where it obviously usually resides. One suspects that perhaps the bosses don't know that the night staff are watching cable instead of the security cams after all.
Just for the purpose of clarity, "Control" is exactly what it sounds like - a central glass room that acts as the nerve center for the prison. Multiple video screens hang from the ceiling, showing the outside of the jail from all possible approaches (including a water-filled culvert that must creep up behind the facility, as Cake's never seen that particular locale outside). The guard behind the glass has complete control (hence the name) over all movements inside the facility. If you want to go through a set of doors, he (and it is invariably a "he") must release the magnetic locks from inside Control. If you want to see a particular inmate, he radios to the living unit for a guard there to bring that inmate up to the main building. If any prisoner (a.k.a. teenager) is moving anywhere in the facility, Control must be informed of every movement. So, for example, if a youth is coming out of the Day Room and going into the main hall, the guard with that kid walkie talkies to Control the phrase "Control, coming out of the Day Room with One." It doesn't matter if the guard is leaving the Day Room with 5 additional people, they still say "with One", meaning One Inmate. Control is physically a large module in the centre of the main facility, encased completely in bullet & shatter proof glass which appears to be soundproofed as well. This is so the guards can sit behind the glass and say whatever they want without being heard by the prisoners they are talking about. It's also convenient for ignoring people like Cake when she comes in and stands on the other side of the glass, waiting to sign in and request the list of people who have asked to meet with her that day.
The "Cake Wafit" identity appears to be having the desired effect, however, of whittling through the defenses of the PURE EVIL staff. Much of the time they appear to be buying her quasi-mild mannered, polite "counsellor" exterior; the image of the woman who "just wants to help" the poor delinquents. Although the PURE EVIL staff are contemptuous of this (believing the 'little criminals' to be deserving of cruel and unusual punishment), they only scoff at and subtley demean Cake. If they knew that Crowbar hides just under the "Cake" veneer, they'd likely restrain, eject, or even try to arrest her. As such, Crowbar usually goes along quite happily with the 'scoff and deride' version of PURE EVIL, as it does little to impede her revolutionary goals. She knows, additionally, that it is critically important that she maintain an effective Double Agent identity in order to maintain her access to the jail. Letting that slip, even insofar as to appear annoyed or offended by the guards' condescension, would jeopardize the Mission Objectives beyond repair.
Lately, though, the Cake Wafit identity has been noting some subtle changes in the attitude of the guards in Control toward her. Where they used to always keep her on the other side of the glass, shouting to be heard through the metal voice conduit, recently she's noticed they will sometimes open the Control door and let her speak face to face in a normal tone of voice. Where she used to always have to sign in by having the clipboard passed to her through the metal drawer, now more often the guard will open the Control door and let her come in a few feet to sign in using the desk in there. Admittance into the inner sanctum of Control is a form of tacit acceptance; a grudging sign that they are now viewing her as closer to "one of them" than "the enemy". While this has the ability to make bile rise in Crowbar's throat, the Cake identity reminds her that this is exactly the desired progression for a Double Agent.
And so, returning to our narrative, this particular morning Cake was the first non-staff person to enter the facility, as we said, even beating management and administration to arriving. This appeared to only further her 'one-of-us' status with the guards in Control as they not only let her in the nerve centre, but tolerated her leaning up against a desk and feigning interest in Psi Factor along with them. The two guards shot the shit about goings-on in the facility during the night as though Cake weren't there - the clearest sign so far that she's moving even beyond the level of acceptance that Management receives. Cake is well-trained in playing this hand, and knows the key is not to overplay it - that is, not to look either too eager or too interested in what they're talking about. When rubbing elbows with PURE EVIL, the best demeanor to adopt is a sort of nonchalant, semi-bored inoffensiveness and you'll quickly find they mistake you for "one of the boys" before long. Both guards in Control did so this particular morning, tossing comments back and forth to one another about a "new kid" in the boys unit and offering up their decidedly uninspired evaluations of him. Cake listened to this while appearing to be riveted by Psi Factor (which, if you've ever seen it, should have been a dead-giveaway that she was up to something) and threw in a seemingly disinterested question when the timing was right:
"What's the deal with him?"
Doesn't sound too articulate? You have to know that articulation would immediately expose Cake as being a Resistance Force agent. Grunted, non-commital half-sentences go a lot further in identifying one as part of the in-crowd when you're hanging out with prison guards. The Control boys thus rushed to tell her all the problems with this new kid, and all the reasons they need to be on top of him all the time. As it turns out, the main problem seemed to be that the kid is large for his age. This wouldn't appear to be an issue for the average person but you've gotta remember that these guards are used to being able to feel like they're tough guys because they're able to overpower and subdue 90 pound 13-year-old boys - not surprising that anyone approximating their own size would be viewed as "dangerous".
Cake's skepticism may have been a bit too obvious, however, as one of the guards, noting the look on her face, proceeded to say, "No, it's bad - this kid's violent. He's got Armed Robbery and Assaulting A Police Officer."
Cake raised an eyebrow. Well, actually she probably raised two, but she's always wanted to be able to do that cool Jack Nicholson, one-eyebrow thing. Armed robbery and assaulting a police officer, huh? Ok, we could see how the uninitiated might see those as indications of violence, but you really do have to know how this stuff typically goes down to realize just how meaningless those charges can sometimes be. Right off the top it needs to be said that a whole lot of teenagers rack up an "assaulting a police officer" charge when they're being arrested. Off the top of our heads we can think of about 10 girls who were slapped with that charge for spitting on a cop while being cuffed. Then we can think of a few who fought being cuffed or, let's not forget that all-time favourite, the ones the cops beat up and immediately charged with 'assaulting a police officer' so they could justify the 'use of force' on the kid.
"Why'd you break this prisoners nose?"
"She was assaulting us, Your Honour."
Suffice to say, that particular charge doesn't mean much to the Crowbar Crew until we hear the details.
As for Armed Robbery, well, in our experience...and we mean no disrespect...sometimes kids can be dumb. Sometimes they do things like carry a weapon (or any object, really), thinking they'll be less likely to end up in a physical confrontation due to it. Or sometimes they brandish something in their hand like they're going to hit someone with it, even if they have no intention of doing so. Or sometimes they're just assholes who feel like they're tough if they've got a knife. Invariably what Cake hears from the young women she speaks to is, "I would never use it!" [At this point Cake often debates the usefulness of stating the obvious about those who carry weapons not pulling them unless they're prepared to use them, but it's a coin toss about whether or not we go there in the moment.] Our personal favourite are the youths who get charged with Armed Robbery when they bully some other kid out of their bus pass and happen to be holding a bottle or something in their hand. All the police report has to say is that the victim believed they were going to be hit with the bottle if they didn't turn over the bus pass (or other desired object), and your standard mugging moves up the ladder to Armed Robbery. None of this is to say that it's ok to be bullying or stealing in the first place, nor that no youth has ever been dangerously in control of a weapon they're prepared to use - certainly, some have been right nasty motherfuckers. Cake's point here is solely that the "armed robbery" charge is certainly no proof that they're anything more than stupid - and that certainly doesn't equate directly to their being a violent individual generally.
Did Cake say all this to her new-found prison guard buddies in Control? If you've answered yes to that question you are going to be left back in spy-school a few weeks. Arguing with the Dark Side's established parameters of any label is a sure-fire way to distinguish oneself as a member of the Resistance Force. Hell, even people who are utterly unaffiliated with the Resistance Force have been accused of being operatives, just for the crime of questioning the logic of some accepted Dark Side precept. So Cake, knowing what's in her best interests, kept her mouth shut and kept watching Psi Factor. For those of you who would question her choice, its strategic nature became clear in mere minutes.
One guard stood up and said, "Well, I'm gonna get a coffee..." and turned to Cake as he started toward the door of Control. Cake began to shift herself, believing this to be her hint to go back to her established loitering post in the main concourse, when he said, "You wanna coffee?"
Cake Wafit, my friends, is IN.
Just for the purpose of clarity, "Control" is exactly what it sounds like - a central glass room that acts as the nerve center for the prison. Multiple video screens hang from the ceiling, showing the outside of the jail from all possible approaches (including a water-filled culvert that must creep up behind the facility, as Cake's never seen that particular locale outside). The guard behind the glass has complete control (hence the name) over all movements inside the facility. If you want to go through a set of doors, he (and it is invariably a "he") must release the magnetic locks from inside Control. If you want to see a particular inmate, he radios to the living unit for a guard there to bring that inmate up to the main building. If any prisoner (a.k.a. teenager) is moving anywhere in the facility, Control must be informed of every movement. So, for example, if a youth is coming out of the Day Room and going into the main hall, the guard with that kid walkie talkies to Control the phrase "Control, coming out of the Day Room with One." It doesn't matter if the guard is leaving the Day Room with 5 additional people, they still say "with One", meaning One Inmate. Control is physically a large module in the centre of the main facility, encased completely in bullet & shatter proof glass which appears to be soundproofed as well. This is so the guards can sit behind the glass and say whatever they want without being heard by the prisoners they are talking about. It's also convenient for ignoring people like Cake when she comes in and stands on the other side of the glass, waiting to sign in and request the list of people who have asked to meet with her that day.
The "Cake Wafit" identity appears to be having the desired effect, however, of whittling through the defenses of the PURE EVIL staff. Much of the time they appear to be buying her quasi-mild mannered, polite "counsellor" exterior; the image of the woman who "just wants to help" the poor delinquents. Although the PURE EVIL staff are contemptuous of this (believing the 'little criminals' to be deserving of cruel and unusual punishment), they only scoff at and subtley demean Cake. If they knew that Crowbar hides just under the "Cake" veneer, they'd likely restrain, eject, or even try to arrest her. As such, Crowbar usually goes along quite happily with the 'scoff and deride' version of PURE EVIL, as it does little to impede her revolutionary goals. She knows, additionally, that it is critically important that she maintain an effective Double Agent identity in order to maintain her access to the jail. Letting that slip, even insofar as to appear annoyed or offended by the guards' condescension, would jeopardize the Mission Objectives beyond repair.
Lately, though, the Cake Wafit identity has been noting some subtle changes in the attitude of the guards in Control toward her. Where they used to always keep her on the other side of the glass, shouting to be heard through the metal voice conduit, recently she's noticed they will sometimes open the Control door and let her speak face to face in a normal tone of voice. Where she used to always have to sign in by having the clipboard passed to her through the metal drawer, now more often the guard will open the Control door and let her come in a few feet to sign in using the desk in there. Admittance into the inner sanctum of Control is a form of tacit acceptance; a grudging sign that they are now viewing her as closer to "one of them" than "the enemy". While this has the ability to make bile rise in Crowbar's throat, the Cake identity reminds her that this is exactly the desired progression for a Double Agent.
And so, returning to our narrative, this particular morning Cake was the first non-staff person to enter the facility, as we said, even beating management and administration to arriving. This appeared to only further her 'one-of-us' status with the guards in Control as they not only let her in the nerve centre, but tolerated her leaning up against a desk and feigning interest in Psi Factor along with them. The two guards shot the shit about goings-on in the facility during the night as though Cake weren't there - the clearest sign so far that she's moving even beyond the level of acceptance that Management receives. Cake is well-trained in playing this hand, and knows the key is not to overplay it - that is, not to look either too eager or too interested in what they're talking about. When rubbing elbows with PURE EVIL, the best demeanor to adopt is a sort of nonchalant, semi-bored inoffensiveness and you'll quickly find they mistake you for "one of the boys" before long. Both guards in Control did so this particular morning, tossing comments back and forth to one another about a "new kid" in the boys unit and offering up their decidedly uninspired evaluations of him. Cake listened to this while appearing to be riveted by Psi Factor (which, if you've ever seen it, should have been a dead-giveaway that she was up to something) and threw in a seemingly disinterested question when the timing was right:
"What's the deal with him?"
Doesn't sound too articulate? You have to know that articulation would immediately expose Cake as being a Resistance Force agent. Grunted, non-commital half-sentences go a lot further in identifying one as part of the in-crowd when you're hanging out with prison guards. The Control boys thus rushed to tell her all the problems with this new kid, and all the reasons they need to be on top of him all the time. As it turns out, the main problem seemed to be that the kid is large for his age. This wouldn't appear to be an issue for the average person but you've gotta remember that these guards are used to being able to feel like they're tough guys because they're able to overpower and subdue 90 pound 13-year-old boys - not surprising that anyone approximating their own size would be viewed as "dangerous".
Cake's skepticism may have been a bit too obvious, however, as one of the guards, noting the look on her face, proceeded to say, "No, it's bad - this kid's violent. He's got Armed Robbery and Assaulting A Police Officer."
Cake raised an eyebrow. Well, actually she probably raised two, but she's always wanted to be able to do that cool Jack Nicholson, one-eyebrow thing. Armed robbery and assaulting a police officer, huh? Ok, we could see how the uninitiated might see those as indications of violence, but you really do have to know how this stuff typically goes down to realize just how meaningless those charges can sometimes be. Right off the top it needs to be said that a whole lot of teenagers rack up an "assaulting a police officer" charge when they're being arrested. Off the top of our heads we can think of about 10 girls who were slapped with that charge for spitting on a cop while being cuffed. Then we can think of a few who fought being cuffed or, let's not forget that all-time favourite, the ones the cops beat up and immediately charged with 'assaulting a police officer' so they could justify the 'use of force' on the kid.
"Why'd you break this prisoners nose?"
"She was assaulting us, Your Honour."
Suffice to say, that particular charge doesn't mean much to the Crowbar Crew until we hear the details.
As for Armed Robbery, well, in our experience...and we mean no disrespect...sometimes kids can be dumb. Sometimes they do things like carry a weapon (or any object, really), thinking they'll be less likely to end up in a physical confrontation due to it. Or sometimes they brandish something in their hand like they're going to hit someone with it, even if they have no intention of doing so. Or sometimes they're just assholes who feel like they're tough if they've got a knife. Invariably what Cake hears from the young women she speaks to is, "I would never use it!" [At this point Cake often debates the usefulness of stating the obvious about those who carry weapons not pulling them unless they're prepared to use them, but it's a coin toss about whether or not we go there in the moment.] Our personal favourite are the youths who get charged with Armed Robbery when they bully some other kid out of their bus pass and happen to be holding a bottle or something in their hand. All the police report has to say is that the victim believed they were going to be hit with the bottle if they didn't turn over the bus pass (or other desired object), and your standard mugging moves up the ladder to Armed Robbery. None of this is to say that it's ok to be bullying or stealing in the first place, nor that no youth has ever been dangerously in control of a weapon they're prepared to use - certainly, some have been right nasty motherfuckers. Cake's point here is solely that the "armed robbery" charge is certainly no proof that they're anything more than stupid - and that certainly doesn't equate directly to their being a violent individual generally.
Did Cake say all this to her new-found prison guard buddies in Control? If you've answered yes to that question you are going to be left back in spy-school a few weeks. Arguing with the Dark Side's established parameters of any label is a sure-fire way to distinguish oneself as a member of the Resistance Force. Hell, even people who are utterly unaffiliated with the Resistance Force have been accused of being operatives, just for the crime of questioning the logic of some accepted Dark Side precept. So Cake, knowing what's in her best interests, kept her mouth shut and kept watching Psi Factor. For those of you who would question her choice, its strategic nature became clear in mere minutes.
One guard stood up and said, "Well, I'm gonna get a coffee..." and turned to Cake as he started toward the door of Control. Cake began to shift herself, believing this to be her hint to go back to her established loitering post in the main concourse, when he said, "You wanna coffee?"
Cake Wafit, my friends, is IN.
posted by Crowbar at 11:27 p.m.
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