12 Hours makes for along shift...

Okay, so last night we had a near riot. Numerous inmates decided that they would not be returning to their cells so that we could remove "initially" one hostile inmate from an area. Several inmates began yelling "F_ck you mother f_ckers. We ain't locking down!!" Things began to escalate from there. I entered the situation with full expectation of getting severely messed up. There were four officers including myself and two supervisors on the front line with OC "Oleoresin Capsicum" pepper spray/foggers and several more officers, rookies I might add, behind us. My supervisor whispered in my ear that the emergency response team was being activated and S.W.A.T. was on stand-by. I suddenly felt that Danny Glover Lethal Weapon, "I'm getting too old for this sh-t" feeling. As I stood there with my pepper fogger primed and ready to wreck the day of the first stupid bastard that advanced me, another thought crossed my mind. The thought that I had just gotten one of my best friends in the world a job in this wretched place and how insane with furious rage I would be if an inmate brought harm to him. As I listened to my supervisor give the order that anyone who did not want to be involved in this should enter a cell and shut the door I felt a little sick. I've been through my share of inmate fights and well in all honesty, I always feel a little sick when it's about to go down. The little metaphor I often use is, if you could imagine jumping into a pit full of venomous snakes and trying to figure out which one is going to bite you first. I think I felt even more sick knowing that I'm not in as good of physical shape I used to be in. If it had been up to me we would've all been standing there with shot guns, but I guess that's why I'm never the one in charge. Anyway, I guess the inmates realized that they were about to be stormed by response teams and began to lock down. As much as I felt a sigh of relief, I was so hoping to be able to light one of the sorry mother @#$%^&* up with some pepper gas. The situation de-escalated and we got them all locked up.

As I sat outside in my truck having a well needed smoke I thought to myself, "How in the hell have I been able to do this crap for the past twelve years? I hate it." Well, I guess it's just what I do and I'll have to settle for that.

Anyway, that's how the story goes.

-S