yesterday i had a counsel visit. these can be over an hour long, and there's no washroom access once you're locked in the room with your lawyer. now it just so happens that i have what is quite possibly the world's smallest bladder and therefore i'm a bit neurotic about not being within reach of a toilet or a bush. so when my name was called i quickly ran to the bathroom.
while i'm pissing, i'm called over the loudspeaker again, and then i hear another, distinctly hostile, voice:
- HISCOCKS I'M WAITING HERE !!!
wow. crusty, much?
i go out. the guard is waiting for me, all narrowed-eyes-and-wide-stance aggression.
- what were you doing?
- um, taking a piss.
i refrain from asking her if she'd like further details, which turns out to be a good decision on my part because she's in a seriously unfriendly mood. she also seems oddly upset by the word “piss”:
- there's other ways to say it you know. there's male officers here, they don't need to know what you were doing in the bathroom.
- well i'm pretty sure they've heard it all before. in fact i bet they've even done it themselves!
(but in fairness to those male guards, if you're reading this, i'm very sorry and i sincerely hope you aren't too traumatized. i guess you can thank your lucky stars i wasn't changing a tampon.)
on our way to the visit, this guard walks right beside me instead of across the hall and a bit behind, as is customary. i assume she's doing this to be intimidating -- and it's working. this guard IS BIG! and she's got a reputation as the tough one, one they call when an inmate “needs” to be restrained. basically, she is not to be fucked with. that being said, i'm not so intimated that i don't lose myself in thoughts of how i could have answered her question in “other ways”. . .
- what were you doing?
going pee pee.
i had to tinkle.
taking a leak.
emptying the ol' bladder
making wee wee.
but wait. although avoiding the rather shocking term “piss” any of those options would still have informed those fragile males that that's what i was doing. i guess i could i have gone with “powdering my nose” or “pardon me, but i was momentarily indisposed.” i didn't grow up in the 1800s so i'm not really sure.
the best part of all this is that this guard swears like a sailor (as they say). she can be really nice, but also clearly gets off on her power to intimidate and control. she's also the one who thought it was pretty funny, when i first arrived, to amuse the other inmates by calling me “Not Her Cock” -- as if we're all in grade school.
still, it sure was awfully nice of her to take the time to critique my manners... although it's possible she might be going just a tad above and beyond her description as a correctional officer. i wonder what my next lesson in the finer points of ladylike behaviour will be? how to properly cross my legs while sitting? how to drink tea (small sips, pinkie up)? a perfect curtsy, fit for the Queen?
ah Vanier, at least you're entertaining.
This blog post was originally published on bored but not broken