Small Towns
The other evening I was on the phone with Alex, and as I meandered through Downtown Natchez I wandered past the jail. I saw several people in what looked like old fashioned jail costumes, the kind with black and white stripes, sitting outside having a smoke with people in police uniforms. I figured it was one of those fund-raiser things where good upstanding citizens pay B&B prices to spend the night in the jail, with breakfast brought in from somewhere fancy, and get into the act. They had one in my home town; one of the old ladies from the Art Center had a nice picture of herself behind bars.
But apparently not. I've been informed by a local that those really were inmates. The jail in downtown Natchez is simply really, really minimum security.
Hell, getting smoke breaks might be part of their punishment. They're outside wearing the traditional Jail uniform (it's actually green and white stripes, I just couldn't tell in the darK) and the entire town can see them. Word gets around fast here.
The word on the street by midmorning might well be that I'm a complete clutz. The sidewalk on my street slopes down rather suddenly to meet the sidewalk on the cross street I take to work; I missed that fact this morning. My dodgy ankle turned over, and as I was picking myself off the ground I hear from what I thought was an empty street "You alright?" Well, actually what I heard was "you ai'igh'? " but I could substitute the appropriate consonants. The eyes are everywhere and they are watching you.
But apparently not. I've been informed by a local that those really were inmates. The jail in downtown Natchez is simply really, really minimum security.
Hell, getting smoke breaks might be part of their punishment. They're outside wearing the traditional Jail uniform (it's actually green and white stripes, I just couldn't tell in the darK) and the entire town can see them. Word gets around fast here.
The word on the street by midmorning might well be that I'm a complete clutz. The sidewalk on my street slopes down rather suddenly to meet the sidewalk on the cross street I take to work; I missed that fact this morning. My dodgy ankle turned over, and as I was picking myself off the ground I hear from what I thought was an empty street "You alright?" Well, actually what I heard was "you ai'igh'? " but I could substitute the appropriate consonants. The eyes are everywhere and they are watching you.