Skip to content
Tags

,

Small Talk at Medical

April 7, 2014

I went to medical the other day for an infected tattoo. It was nothing that serious; I just wanted to get out and go for a little field trip.sean3

Anyway, some C.O. says to me, “Hey, you’re Couch. You’re the one who had a guy in the back of a truck and killed him when you hit a tree.”

I decided to deny it and told him that must be a different “Couch.”

He replied, “No, I know you. I remember a file when I read one. Your last two ID numbers are zero-three.”

I ignored the comment. He then proceeded to bring up something I got into trouble for here in prison. In short, I had a major crush on this pretty female C. O. and, lost in my desires, hoping on a hope, wishing on a wish, I wrote her a note telling her what I thought when I looked at her. I wasn’t really expecting anything to derive from it. I just hoped she would be flattered and keep it to herself. We would share a secret and maybe trade glances from time to time. Something stupid like that.

Anyway he brought up the note and began talking about it and the truck accident to these other four people right in front of me—all the time with a stupid little grin on his face.

I consider both these occasions the worst days of my life, and on both days, I hurt myself worse than I ever had with any razor or burn or fist on the wall. Both days were humiliating.

In regard to the letter, the C. O. called me a predator and piece of shit. He also said that I had no life and would never get out of prison. It kind of reminded me of when my foster mother humiliated me at church, after discovering that I’d been masturbating and drawing pictures of naked girls. She was a very intelligent, very cruel woman—a lethal combination.

The C. O. who I wrote the note too said she felt threatened. The thought of hurting her made me sick. This C. O. told me she had been fired. That was a lie, since nothing ever went on between us, but the the thought that she’d even been under scrutiny was excruciating. I felt shame about this note and hung my head. One person said, “Yeah don’t even look at us.” Honestly, I ignored these comments, I just kept walking.

So, why did this person feel the need to bring up two of the worst days of my life with a smirk on his face?

Well, that’s small talk on the way to medical, dude.

Advertisements

From → BLOG

3 Comments
  1. Samantha White♡ permalink

    Hm … .i like this writing… .♡.

    Like

  2. Why? Simple. Some people who do not like themselves resort to hurting others to feel better about themselves. Do not let this person’s negativity bring you down. How sad that the only way he can feel good is by putting others below him. When in fact, having empathy for others raises us up. Head up, keep writing! ~J

    Like

  3. christy davis permalink

    Dear Sean,
    I am a very old friend of your mothers and fathers. Matter of fact, i was roommates with your mom when you were conceived. ( no i wasnt there, silly, lol) She said she mentioned me to you. I always share your writing and absolutely love it. As do my friends. I hope you are well, and im so happy you got to see each other. Take care of yourself and keep writing!!!!!!

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: