Transcript
(1) Recipe for an Egg Salad Sandwich by doctorstork 2 - hard boiled eggs 3 - packets of tartar sauce 1/2 - packet of Goya seasoning 2 TBS - chopped green onion Salt & pepper to taste Steps: 1. Crack shell, peel, then chop up hard boiled egg. 2. Add tartar sauce 3. Add Goya seasoning. 4. Add chopped green onion 5. Salt & pepper to taste Sounds simple, but, how do you accomplish that while in prison, no access to a market, no sharp kitchen utensils, no refrigeration and under the watchful eye of under qualified guards who would have trouble being a greeter at Wal-Mart? First, the eggs. How do you get the eggs without a grocery store? Like everything else in prison, you smuggle them out of food service. For breakfast today we were served bland bran flakes and stale sugary frosted flakes cereal, an overly expired (2) plastic wrapped sweet roll filled with some sort of fruity berry goop covered by fine threads of icing. Then there was the coveted, once a week, unripe green banana. I say coveted because our other choice is a frozen orange out of a box that is labelled "not fit for human consumption", really meant for the inmates of the local farm. Now if you did not take the offer of a banana, the food service workers would take them all, to sell later to you for a 50 cent USPS stamp. They literally steal it from my mouth to sell it back to me later in the day. Lastly, you can get 2 small cartons of fat free milk in the type of carton we used to get with our elementary school lunch that cost us "baby boomers" a mere 25 cents. Now if you are crafty, and most inmates need to be crafty to survive, you can smuggle all of your groceries out of food service in a hole you have cut in the lining of your winter coat. Even in the summer, you still wear your winter coat because of course there is that hole in the lining that serves just like Santa's sack, over filled with xmas goodies. (3) BTW, you saved the tartar sauce packets from Friday's fish luncheon and bought the Goya, with the money you earned washing trays, for 14 cents an hour, at the commissary. And the green onion... that's only a dream. They never serve green onion. All of this began at around 6 AM on a Sunday morning in a camp in Kentucky (not Big Sandy). It's back to sleep until 950 AM because the real meal of the day is brunch. "Standing count" is announced over the compound PA system by someone with a Southern Kentucky accent. I have become accustomed, only just recently, after 6 months, to being able to recognize what the heck they are trying to say with a huge wad of "dip" in their mouths; women included. I recognized the androgynous weekend guard. The one whose back of its head is so flat, it merges smoothly with its fat neck. In fact, the other guards look very similar with no necks, backward sloping forehead, wire rimmed glasses, shaven heads, long scraggly beards and having a hard time counting beyond the number 10 by 2's. BTW, a perfect example of not how to live your own life. (4) Don't you dare mess up their count. It will cost you a week in "The Hole"; the Special Housing Unit. This morning in fact, 2 guys were still asleep during the count. Because the guard did not want to do any paperwork, their unit was designated to go last to brunch. Now that I think about it, I am better off staying in my cell and eating that egg salad sandwich, minus the green onion. doctorstork If published, please send a copy. Thank you
