Corruption Officer (5 page)

As the day went on with me doing
more stupid new jack shit like checking the doors and windows to make sure that
they were locked and secure, I could see Biz out from the corner of my eye
watching me and figuring out a way to approach me.
 
Then he finally came up to me the correct
way, the way a friend is supposed to approach you who knows your history.
 
A friend that knows that your trying to hold
down a job and do better for yourself and that they are not supposed to take it
personal or blow your spot up when you act all professional and shit.
 
He said, “Ah, C.O. can I speak to you for a
moment?”
 
I said, “Yeah, what’s up?”
 
He apologized for approaching me the wrong way
and we sat down and talked.
 
We began to
reminisce about our youth from plastic coin food stamps, the black ones, 50
cent, the red, 25 cents, to drinking out of a fire hydrant on a hot summer day.
 
That was before they started selling
bottled water.
 
Who ever thought of that is a fucking genius.
 
He brought up the time when we were in
several gangs such as the G-force and Zulu Nation and we got chased home by a
rival gang called the Ball Busters, no homo.
 
I remembered when we played this game on a chick
named Tracy where we blind-folded her with a sock and placed different items in
her hand.
 
She was supposed to guess what
they were.
 
I put a frank in her hand and
she guessed frank.
 
This nasty nigga Biz
put his dick in her hand.
 
You should
have seen her squeezing and scrunching her face up trying to guess what it was.
 
When she finally got it, she let out a
yell and ran and told her mother.
 
Talk
about lil nigga’s getting their asses beat.
 
Me
and Biz ain’t come
outside for two summers.
 
Yeah we were some
crazy mothafucka’s.
 

After we stopped laughing he said
that he was going to let me know what was going on around here.
 
Biz informed me that Rikers Island was a city
inside the city.
 
He tells me that the C.O.s
here
are
making money and he ain’t talking about their
paychecks.
 
He goes on to say that some
of his boys have gotten chick C.O.s to bring them in weed, razors and all sorts
of things.
 
Some even gave up the pussy.
 
I didn’t believe him because what I was told
is that
inmates
lie on their dick all the time when it
comes to fucking these female Officers.
 
I
mean it might have happened on a rare occasion, but the way that he was talking,
it was like it was S.O.P. (Standard Operating Procedures).
 
He went on to say that he knows that a
hustler like me was going to make a lot of money in here.
 
I stared at him like he was crazy and said, “Ya’
see that’s why I barked on you the way that I did earlier.
 
Nigga, you of all people know where I come
from.
 
I ain’t fucking my shit up for
nothing!”
 
He said, “Gee, ain’t no way
that you can get caught because you would be fucking with your right hand man
right here,” pointing to himself.
 
I knew
it.
 
I thought
,
I knew there was a reason for the run-down of the works in this place, for the
gas me up
sales pitch.
 
I ain’t tear the nigga’s head off this time I
just told him that I just got this job and that I ain’t fucking it up for
nothing.

He saw that my foot was planted
on that, so he moved to a more moderate request.
 
He said, “Look, Gee, I hear you and respect
that.”
 
My thoughts, ‘The nigga’s lying.’
 
But he went on saying, “On the real, a
nigga is fucked up in here so could you look out and hook me up with some
cigarettes, not for me to smoke but so that I can juggle them.”
 

“What the fuck is juggling?” I
asked.
 

“Juggling is when the inmates
trade the cigarettes between them for whatever, weed, food and for phone calls
(called clicks).
 
Look around you,
Gee
,” he pleaded his case by saying, “Everybody’s smoking.”
 

I did notice that and the fact
that I saw my “A” Officer give her worker a cigarette a minute ago.
 
My conscience, ‘I know!
 
I know!
 
Here I am being propositioned by an inmate.
What am I going to do?’ I thought to myself.
 

I evaluated the situation.
 
First everybody is smoking, second they sell
them in commissary so it’s not a crime for an inmate to have them and third the
senior Officers are giving them to the inmates anyway.
 
Plus, I felt bad about barking on him this
morning and this was my man, Biz.
 
I told
him okay I’ll hold him down this one time.
 
He told me to go to his apartment which was
two floors down and see his sister.
 
And
that she will give me a pack of cigarettes for him.
 
Another reason I agreed to look out was
because I had been seeing his sister around the hood and her ass had gotten
fatter.
 
She would often ask me when I
was going to let her babysit my offspring again, meaning give me a blow job,
and I definitely had to go check that out.
 
I thought it was no big deal doing it because it was only cigarettes…….

After I had been on the job a few weeks, I was getting to
know a lot of the Officers and they were beginning to show me the ropes.
 
I had already caught the eye of a few honey’s
that worked there and I had started to spit some game to them, ya’ know,
getting my motha fuck’n mac on and shit.
 
One day while I was at lunch some old timers quickly snatched me up in
the locker room and schooled me on how shit went around there as far as pussy
was concerned.
 
One old timer looked at
me and laughed then said, “Nigga, you having the time of yo’ life.
 
Just lookatcha, runnin’ round here, up in all
these bitches faces telling ya corny jokes and shit.
 
These dumb bitches justa laugh’n and key key’n
at every little thang ya say.
 
Ya gotcha
hair all blown out and duddied up lookn like a broke ass Steve Harvey and
shit.” Again he broke out into a loud hearty laugh.
 
Of course this nigga was old, bald, and fat
so my thoughts were that he was just hatin’ ‘cause it’s my time to shine.
 
So I just sat back and let Cooley High talk.
 
He went on to say, “Looky here, yahoo,
you-aint-fuckn’ funny.
 
These bitches are
just playing you like they play all these other Joe security fake ass new
nigga’s runn’n round here!
 
They know you
ain’t
have
shit before ya got this job.
 
They know how much ya make, how much ya
bringing home after taxes and alll-lat.
 
Ya’
going round screaming that Harlem world shit!”
 
He then snickered.”
 
They know you aint got no car and ya probably
still living witcha’ moms.”
 
He then
looked at me and saw that I was stuck.
 
My
thoughts were, ‘How the fuck this nigga know all that?’
 
He said, “Yeah, nigga, you’re the new kid on
the block, the new meat!”
 
He laughed
hard and loud. “Don’t be fooled none of these bitches are innocent.
 
Let me guess, they just throwing da’ pussy
atcha, huh?”
 
He questioned.
 
I nodded yes.
 
My thoughts were that personally speaking the
brother sounded a little upset over the whole issue.
 
I mean, the way he was talking to me but never
seeming to be looking at me, always off into his own thoughts as if he was
reminiscing about when he used to be me or something like that.
 
At this time the O.G., Bobby Johnson, senior
citizens of Corrections committee had convened.
 
There were four or five elderly - I mean Senior
Officers changing their clothes.
 
Some
were bald, some with salt and pepper hair, some even had wooden teeth, yes,
wooden, with all the benefits we get.
 
They
overheard, “Rallo” from
Sanford and Son
talking to me and invited themselves into the conversation.
 

“Rufus, what are you doing talking to Baby Milk here?
 
He ain’t got enough time on the job to rate
conversation,” one of them asked.

They laughed.

“Nah, I was just trying to let the young’n know how stupid
he was looking around here and I was pointing him in the right direction,” Ruffis
said.

Another Officer said, “Like you know.”

They laughed.
 

“Seriously, you can’t be running around here like you never
had pussy before.
 
Believe me you’re
gonna get your fair share of ass in due time, more than you can handle.
 
Shit everybody is fuckn everybody!
 
Officers, Captains, Deputies, everybody!
 
Check it, you see all these female Officers
around here?
 
A lot of them are loose
with it.
 
Even the bucked tooth snooty
bitches give up the ass on any given Sunday.
 
Yeah, they all come in here the same way like,
“’I aint fuckn none of these nigga’s,’” he laughs then he says, “I give them a
three month grace period before one of these Officers has a finger in that puss
either on post or in the cocking lot, parking lot,” another Officer said.
 

Another Officer interjected, “Nah, all of them ain’t that
easy it took me ‘bout a year and a half to hit Officer Fredricks.
 

“You hit Fredricks?” Ruffis asked with a stunned face.

The Officer frowned and said, “That ass is old news, but it
took me awhile.”
 

“Aint she married?” Ruffis again questioned in disbelief.

The Officer gave a ‘da fuck wrong wit chu’ look and
responded, “Yeah, and!?”
 
Then he turned
to me and said, “Engaged, married, single, Baptist, Catholic, Muslim.
 
It don’t matter ‘cause if dey come up in here,
dey fuckn!
 
Sometimes it’s all about
timing.
 
Sometimes, if you work with them
long enough the pussy just falls into your lap.
 
Like I said, I was working with Fredricks for
a minute before I popped her in the bathroom on overtime on the midnight
tour.
 
One night she came in to work
drunk and upset about her husband leaving her because she worked too much.
 
She went on to say that he felt that ever
since she started this job it became her life.
 
Everything is about the job, the parties, the nigga’s,
everything!
 
She said he had his shit
packed when she left home to come to work.
 
Yeah, that night she was in pretty bad shape
and me being the loving and caring co-worker that I am just sat there and
listened, of course, after I went and got a 5
^th
of Bacardi that I
had in my stash…”
 

They laughed and gathered around like all men do when we are
about to hear some shit about a woman fucking that we want to fuck.
 

“I just sat there pouring her drink after drink, waiting
patiently with my dick in my hand. Shit, after the Captain made his tour and
took a couple of shots to the head I knew it was on,” he continued, “I had that
ass hemmed up in that bathroom damn near all night!
 
I ain’t stop till they called the house out
chow!”
 

They all burst out laughing.
 
I sat there attentively listening then another
Officer jumped in and said, “As soon as the chicks come through those gates
from the Academy it’s open season.
 
It’s
a whole new world to these broads because the Island is its own city and has
its own rules.
 
Watch, once you’ve been
here awhile you going to be coming to work to hangout, drink and fuck.
 
This place is the ultimate get away.”
 

They laugh loud and hard.
 

“It’s almost impossible to get caught cheating, especially
if your chick ain’t on the job,” he said.
 

“What do you mean?” I asked.
 

“It’s one way on and one way off Rikers Island and if you
ain’t no C.O. then after visiting hours, you won’t be able to come to a jail to
check up on your spouse.
 
And if they try
and call, nine times out ten, if you don’t want to be found then you won’t be
found.
 
You will be good to go once you
get yourself a jail wife,” he said.

“A jail wife?”
I asked.

“Yeeeah man,” he said, “If you hook up with one of these
shorties and ya’ll really
feeling
each other, she
becomes your jail wife.
 
She knows about
your wife if you got one and you know about her man, but inside here ya’ll
belong to each other.
 
Everybody in the
jail knows it and don’t say shit at Correction Officers’ functions when you
show up with your real peoples.
 
Shit, I
done seen nigga’s leave their real wives for C.O. pussy.”

“I done seen Officers fight each other at roll call over
dick and pussy that ain’t even theirs, looking real stupid!” Rufus chimed in.

“I saw an Officer have a shootout in the parking lot after
getting caught cheating.
 
Of course his
wife and mistress were both on the job.
 
Shit
if them bitches get smart all they have to do is check ya’ pay stub to see if
overtime is on it,” another Officer said.

“That ain’t necessarily so,” says another Officer, “…because
I fucks them while they at work, straight time, over time, it don’t matter.
 
There’s so many offices and down low spots in
here, you can get a quickie in broad day light if the broad is wit it!”

I give them a look like ya’ll crazy.
 
One of them yells from the row of lockers next
to us and says, “If somebody is married to one of
these
C.O.s in here, they know when their shit gets shaky at home.
 
They know when their people’s normal
movements have changed.
 
They know when
they start acting different because of this job.
 
They know when C.O.B.A* done turn they lil
ass’s out!”
 

Everybody laughs.

* Corrections Officer
Benevolent Association