Dennis Loses Control but Keeps His Pride

June 23rd, 2010 / Filed Under: Conspiracy Theory / / Tags: , , ,

I have no idea how long I stood there, looking at that noose. I mean that. I have no idea. There’s no clock in the cell. But they did give me a noose. What kind of messed up system is that? Did some bureaucrat dream that up? Some government guy who decided that with all the nooses lying around prisons, maybe we should go green and reuse what we can’t recycle?

After a while I realized that the scenery wasn’t going to change. I sat down on my cot. It wasn’t a long walk. It took one step. There wasn’t much to look at. I stood up. I sat down. As I write this, I realize that pretty much sums up most of my days. That cell wasn’t very big but you know what they say. A small home takes less time to clean.

My normal routine was pretty simple. Several hours of boredom punctuated by interrogation. They tried asking me questions. They wanted to know when I first met the General. I told them it was like in my blog. I met him in Vegas. They didn’t believe me. I insisted. Then I got the idea that if they could ask me questions, maybe I could ask them some. Questions like WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE? WHERE AM I? WHERE’S MY MOTHER? That last one got their attention. I was a little angry and nervous. I meant lawyer but it was too late. They were smiling in that special way that told you they couldn’t wait to tell their buddies about this.

And five times a day, there was a call to prayer. I have my own ideas about religion and prayer. I think both are great ideas. But I think FIVE AM is a little too early. I mean, come on. I’m a night owl, okay? I fall asleep about 3:30. Even if I didn’t have to get up for this, it was still a disturbance. Then I just fall asleep and we do it all over again around 6:15 or so. I tried telling people I wasn’t a Muslim but that just confused them.

One morning, I confess, I snapped. I’d had enough. I started yelling. HEY YOU GUYS. YOU CUT THAT OUT RIGHT NOW! I might have said DAMN somewhere in there. Enough is enough. Well, that got instant action. A guard came to my door and opened that little window. He told me that I had to be quiet during prayer time. I asked him why I had to be quiet when that guy wasn’t being quiet. You could hear him throughout the entire building.

He said, “Don’t get smart.”

“You want me to be stupid?”

“Listen, buddy. You have to be quiet and we have ways to make it happen.”

You probably have different triggers. Mine is the word buddy. When someone uses it and they don’t mean it, it does something to my brain chemistry. All those filters that tell you not to say certain things just get shut down. You know what I mean. The filters that keep you from telling your wife that she’s putting on weight. Or that her sister looks really hot. Or telling your boss that he’s extra stupid today. I think I told the guard that his stupid wife was really hot, even though she’d put on weight. Loudly. Very loudly.

The window closed. Then the door was unlocked and four guards rushed into a cell that was crowded with one. They had a black bag, zip tie handcuffs and some duct tape. They very efficiently cuffed my hands behind my back. Then duct tape was placed over my mouth. The bag went over my head. I felt myself being lifted up. The noose went around my head. Then my feet were placed very carefully; one on my cot and the other on my toilet. I hadn’t thought before this about the strange placement of the noose. If I was careful not to move very much, I might be able to keep my balance. If I slipped, I wouldn’t have very long to think about it.

They came to get me as soon as prayer was over but it wasn’t soon enough. No, of course I didn’t die. I’m writing this, right? But you know how you have to go to the bathroom when you wake up? Yeah. I’m not sure how I did it but I did. While balancing on my cot and the toilet, I managed to get it to go down the leg that led to the toilet, keeping my cot dry. It might not seem like much to you but it was a mighty big victory for me. It had been several months since I had wet my bed and I wasn’t about to relapse now.

I heard several sounds of disgust when the guards came in. I was carefully taken down from the noose. The bag was taken off my head and the tape off my mouth. I want you to keep in mind that I have a beard. Duct tape. Beard. Duct tape. Beard. Sudden removal of duct tape. Simultaneous removal of sections of my beard. And even with tears in my eyes, I was smiling. I think that bothered them. They thought I’d be intimidated. But I was so proud that I hadn’t wet my bed that nothing could ruin it. Then I was frogmarched to the shower again. You know, the horizontal one?

After I had a chance to dry off and get into a change of clothes, the phone rang. One the guards answered it. Of course, I only heard one side of the conversation.

“Yes, he’s here…Yeah, it’s under control now…Really?…I don’t think that’s necessary, is it?…It was only one time…But…But…Yeah, but…Okay…Right away?…Okay.”

He looked at his partner and said, “The Colonel wants to see him.”

 

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