Confinement. Hell. Possibly the only building I truly dread entering.
Today I had to drop off a book to an inmate that got in trouble, and got himself a one way ticket to the hole. Fabulous. I hate when they act out…now I get to visit the zoo. Thanks man.
On my walk down the cement mile, I got a warning. Confinement had just been smoked out. I am not talking about real smoke. It is what we call mace. An inmate shattered his glasses and used them to cut his arm open. Repeatedly. (Attention seeking much?) The only way to get him to stop was to mace him, A LOT. It beats the hose though from what I hear.
So what does this mean for me? That in the 5 minutes it is going to take for me to drop off this book, I have to get the backlash of the remaining spray. This is not a well ventilated building. This crap lingers like a moth to the flame.
Once you experience it…it is unmistakable. Your eyes begin to burn. Your throat tastes like fire. You get an instant migraine. Sometimes you have to throw up. It can be hard to catch your breath.
After the first time, I told one of the officers I had popped my mace cherry. I was now a man! (Since the inmates talk all the time about becoming a true MAN) He laughed and responded that if I was a man, then we are all in trouble.
My nostrils and eyes are burning again just thinking about it.