Spreading the misery

This will be my place to vent some of the craziness and frustration that stems from my job: prison guard.

Most prison guards these days want to be called "corrections officers" or some variation thereof, to lend a sense of professionalism to their occupation, but I tend to stick with the old-school title. It's just a name and the layman seems less confused by the traditional name anyway.

I work in a maximum security, level V state penitentiary. It is massive, sprawling, a city of its own. A lot happens behind the walls, on a very very regular basis, that would shock the hell out of most people. My facility is overcrowded, full of offenders of every persuasion and from every demographic (though they are predominantly young and African American), and is also the reception center for all new male prisoners in the state. We house over 2000 prisoners at a given time, and have about a 3-month turnover rate. So by August, it will be an entirely new group of fun-lovin', friendly fellas behind the razor wire than are there right now. The good times are sure to keep a-comin'.