If You Wanted to Sleep, You Shouldn't Have Come to Prison

The hum of conversation permeates the housing unit, like a steady buzz of an active beehive. It reminds me, in an odd way, of the noise of a busy shopping mall at Christmas time. (Do shopping malls even still exist?) Yet, the steady hum is pierced by the occasional shout. 

"Meech! Fourth gallery! Meech!" a prisoner hollers up to a buddy from the base. 

A conversation ensues, shouted back and forth, over the heads of people sitting at tables on base, totally disregarding the conversations occurring around these prisoners. It's as if the shouting prisoners exist in a world of their own, totally oblivious to anyone else around them. It's just one more example of the gross disrespect of others that exists in prison. 

The drone of conversation continues, and at the table directly in front of and beneath my cell two prisoners play chess. "CHECK!" one shouts at the other, taunting him with a steady stream of verbal chest beating. I'm beginning to wonder if this game is a game of mental strategy or a test of virility. I think I've been grossly misled all this time to believe chess was a contemplative game. 

My attention shifts to the men in the hole (segregation) directly across from my cell. Several of them carry on competing conversations through the bars. 

"What they gunna do with you?!"
"Hey Streets!?"

"Huh?"
"Who called me?"

"What they gunna do with you?"
"Yo! It's me! You know that house on the corner of East and Main?"

"Huh?"
"Hell yeah! I used to get with the b*h that lived there!"

"I said, what they gunna do with you? Are they transferring you or are you stayin' here?"
"That's my cousin! Real s*t! When were you with her?"

The warring conversations escalate in volume as each party tries to outdo the other conversations around them. 

It's after 8 PM, so I've already made my way to my cell. I know my ability to tolerate stupidity is significantly impaired the later it gets at night, so I stay in my cell for the most part. I'm trying to tune out the noise through the open bars with music or the drone of the news through my headphones.  

Sometimes, I can lose myself in a book or in writing an email, but often I struggle to tune out the cacophony of noise around me. Soon, it'll be time to sleep (for me), and I'm praying it'll be a quiet night in the unit. Since the hole has filled up a week ago, we haven't had a quiet night. I've had to sleep with earplugs in every night, just to cut down on some of the noise. It only partially works. 

Soon, the lights in the housing unit are turned off, leaving only the glare of emergency lights, strategically placed to shine directly into some of our cells. The droning of conversation quiets, but the men in the hole, who have been sleeping most of the day, are just getting started. Some start rapping or singing loudly, others holler back and forth about a TV show or memories from the block. I cover my eyes and attempt to sleep with a sigh. 

I must have finally drifted off to sleep, but my bladder wakes me in the middle of the night. Finally! The loud conversations have ceased, but a few men still talk from cell to cell, though with more restraint. It's 2 AM. What are they still doing awake?! 

I lie back down to return to sleep, but someone in a cell near me is playing their screamer music loudly through their headphones. It's surprisingly loud for the size of headphones we can order. Why must I listen to someone else's music when I'm trying to sleep?! It's the middle of the freakin' night! I mumble some choice descriptors for the offending prisoner, but he's probably sleeping right through his own auditory pollution. 

Bleary eyed, I wake up again three hours later. It's time for me to get ready for work, even though I've slept fitfully. And wouldn't you know it?! The guy's music is still playing loudly through his headphones. There's no consideration from this jerk! Other men wake up equally grumpy from the noise pollution, and some call out choice words to the offender. Of course, he stays silent, either sleeping or too cowardly to admit he's been responsible for keeping people awake most of the night. 

I think about taking a nap later in the day to make up for the sleep I lost that night, but I already know I'll have to put up with noise then too. It'll be the middle of the day, and with a unit of around 350 prisoners, a few disrespectful men are bound to think they are the only people in the unit who matter. Whoever thought prisoners just got to sleep all the time has never been to a prison like the one where I'm currently housed. 

I know, I know. If I wanted to sleep, I shouldn't have come to prison.