THE ROBBERY

     When I first was transferred to Arn-2 maximum security unit, I did not like Dino.

She was a bully, always using her size and weight to intimidate other inmates.  I have

always been for the underdog.  Dino had followers, and she ruled by fear.  Her

demeanor was similar to the OZ character, Adabece.  The norm was to do what she

said, or get quietly roughed up. 

     I did not believe that robberies existed in prison.  There were no pistols, so how

would an inmate rob you?  It did not make since until I witnessed a robbery in progress.

    Dino ran the 2 for 1 store.  Many women from general population were her customers.

Coffee and pre-embossed envelopes were hot items.  Envelopes were like money. 

New admits were housed in Hale unit.  They were considered admissions inmates coming

Automatically, inmates were stripped of everything coming in.  They were issued state

uniforms and a $5.00 starter baggie of cheap cosmetics.  The starter baggie had a small

black comb, a small sample tube of generic toothpaste, a toothbrush that was no more

than four inches long, and a few deodorant packs.  There was also a small motel sized

bar of soap, and a small package of shampoo that was sample size.  The wait was anywhere

from one week to three weeks before an admissions inmate could shop.  When the counties

dropped women off, the money that was in their county account did not follow.  Some

counties were quicker than others.  If your family tried to by pass the wait, and forward

money to the prison so that you can shop, that still took time.  In state prison, the person

sending money had to be an approved visitor, and it took time to get visitors approved.

    If a newbie came in and knew someone from home, they would look out and buy

shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, soap, toothpaste, a real toothbrush, a writing tablet,

and pre-embossed envelopes.  This care package was very important for survival in

admissions.  Even knowing someone willing to supply necessities on loan was appreciated.

Because so many women were there from Cleveland that knew me from home, I received

large care packages all day, every day.  That enabled me to hook up a lot of the women

in admissions with me that did not have anything. 

     "Who is she?"  They would ask about me.

     Some of the givers were genuine, but much of the gifts was a part of the unspoken

bribery norm. 

     'I look out for you now, and then you owe me a favor later', was how it worked.

  I guess the streets worked the same way, just not as obvious. 

      My enemies would also attempt to give me more gifts than friends.

    "Thanks, but I am good."  I said often, returning whatever they sent.

    Many people in prison live by a philosophy that dictates to keep your enemies close.

Not me.  I have been burnt too many times in life for that.  I keep my enemies as far away

from me as I can.  People give off energy.  Enemies host negative energy.  They thrive on

your mishaps and pray serious prayers to destroy you, and bring you down. 

    Who needs all that negative energy close to them?  Not me.

      My immediate circle has always been small and tight.  Because I am an introvert, I love

living my life alone, caught up and driven by my own thoughts and passions.

         Newbies could not write home to notify their families of their whereabouts or anything

without pre-embossed envelopes, therefore Dino had a thriving customer base from the

new women coming in. 

    Some of the women did try to play her, or simply could not pay up.

    "I didn't get my money yet.  My Mom said she sent it, but didn't.  I will pay you when I can."

The newbie would say.

     "Alright.  It's cool."  Dino answered.

     Once the women moved into general population, out of admissions, Dino would rob her.

     "I need to know where she works at, and when she leaves her room."  Dino told her flunkies.

    When she found out the times that the inmate was out of her room, she'd go pick the

combination lock.  In the back of each lock, there was an indent that allowed officers to open

any lock with one master key, without having the combination numbers.

    With a flunky on standby with a garbage bag handy, Dino would open the lock, fill filling

garbage bag, and have the patsy carry the bag across the yard to her unit door. 

     Many inmates keep everything of value in their locker.  Their personal pictures, expensive

sneakers, and clothing items were locked up at all times.  Dino always locked the lock back

and made sure to leave the room and area undisturbed.  As a result of her regular robberies,

Dino supplemented her two-for-one store without having to spend any cash.

     "Hey Turpin, I have a full bag of stuff for sale.  It has a pair of used sneakers that might

fit you also.  I will give you a deal- put 100 bucks on my books and you can have the whole

bag."  She proffered.

   "No.  I am good, but thanks anyway."  Was always my reply.

    I did not trust Dino, and I did not like her style.

   She preyed on other inmates, and was always waiting to catch them slipping.

   Essie was also a professional robber.  The difference between Essie and Dino was Essie would

only hit a lick for survival or if she had beef with someone.

    Because I had Lisa and Phala on my payroll for laundry and ironing monthly, I was exempt

and protected from all robberies.

   Lisa and Phala always shared money or canteen I gave them with Essie.  I was a good, regular

customer, and paid by the first of each month.  I also gave bonuses.  Many women scrub their

tennis shoes because they could not afford to buy new ones.  Being a tennis shoe scrubber

was also a hustle.  Many women knew how to make your own sneakers look like new. 

We were allowed sundry boxes every three months, and to order sneakers from Eastbay

sports catalog.  I loved fresh sneakers, and nice shoes.  I have always had a shoe fetish.

Although I could not feed it like I did at home with regular shopping sprees for shoes all

over the country, I did have the best selection of shoes in prison.  Every three months, when

I received new shoes, I gave my shoes to Essie.  We wore the same size, and I liked her.

Because of the realness I showed her, she guarded me like a pit bull. 

    "What are you doing by her room!"  or, "Get away from her!"  She would yell to everyone.

    Of course she was looking out for her own interest.  She was over 6 feet tall, and a heavy

weight, and did not mind putting in work.  She loved to fight on the streets, and it showed

each time she had to rough someone up.  Essie was my self-appointed goon.  Being robbed

was no longer an option for me.  I would have thrown the old shoes away anyway, as I'd

done when in main population, so it was a very cheap price to pay for loyalty. 

     Some women figured out what happened to their items, and others didn't, to this day.

Many of the officers called them liars.

    "You could not have had anything in your locker, or you passed your combination out.

This is prison.  Get over it."  The officers always replied.

      Phala and Lisa were happy to be on Essie's team.  As I stated previously, homosexual

activity is very different in a female prison than in a male.  Some of the females literally

will fight you for talking to their girlfriends, and the turn outs are the worse as far as

jealousy.  Nobody jumps anyone's bones.  Nobody forces an inmate to be in a gay relationship.

As a matter of fact, gay girls are in very high demand in female prisons, and keep an

entourage of women around them, weighing on them, hand and feet.    Its all based on

supply and demand.  There is never enough boy-girls in prison to go around. 

     The same issues that women suffer from on the streets follow them to prison.  If they

were stalkers of men, guess what?  The same behavior transfers inside prison walls, and

they stalk level four women.  Codependency is a big problem in prison.  Many women

are not comfortable being alone, sitting by themselves and doing their time.  They

displayed the same needy behavior when they were not in prison.   

      Sexual acts are labeled a 205.  They are not allowed, and are against the prison

rules, yet women take chances daily.  Prison life promotes homosexuality on many levels.

      If you have a friend or someone close to you that is facing prison time, the best

advice that you can give them is not to look for friends in prison, and to learn to sit

alone and be alone in this environment.  Inmates have many hours, days, and months

to contemplate their release and focus on making their lives better.  It is hard to

do, but a woman should make it mandatory while serving time- I love being alone,

and silence is really golden, because we do not get a lot of it inside the walls.

Rhonda Turpin

worldbookspublishing@gmail.com

fb/rhondaturpin

FACTS, RECAP AND COMMENTARY

FACTS, RECAP AND COMMENTARY

     Everyone always wants to know exactly what women do in prison as far as sex.

When I used to be at cookouts, or even at work, that is the question that people beat

around the bush with.

    "Um, has anyone ever tried to jump your bones?"  Someone asked.

   What the heck is that?  Just ask the question!

    Family members are a little more direct. 

   "Did Martha really have a dyke named Big Bertha slapping her?" 

   The answer to that is absolutely not.  She did have a young black girl from D.C.

that was not intimidated or afraid to step to Martha.

   "Hey Martha, can I pick you up for lunch?" The girl asked.

 This was a boy-girl, and she was thugged out! 

   "Of course.  I would love to have lunch with you?"  Martha replied.

   Yep-this young thug pushed up on Martha Stewart, and not only got a date, but

also picked her up from her job daily to walk to lunch and eat with her.  We were all

shocked. Even more surprising, Martha seemed to enjoy the attention and the company.

When we would see them walking, Martha would be laughing hard.

   "Martha, what is up with your new friend.  She comes to pick you up faithfully.  You

are not turning gay, are you?"  I teased.

   "Of course not.  She is a nice girl, and she is funny.  She keeps me laughing and I

enjoy her company."  She answered. 

   Martha was not anybody's duck or bitch.  She was a boss to the core. 

   So what do women do in prison?

   First, I am going to have to break this thing down.  It is four levels of women that

co-exist in prison.

   Level one is the curious women, and the closet women who have never been in a

gay relationship, but have turnout potential.

  Level two is the turnout.  A turnout is a girl that is gay for the stay, and did not come

into the prison gay, but inside the walls entered into an intimate relationship with

another woman. 

  Level three is the wannabe gay women, or pretenders and commissary pimps.

This category is also where all the bi-sexual women from home fit in.  They

were not gay at home, and will push ten women out of the way to get to a real man. 

A lot of them have more babies than all of us.  Many women come in and see the

market for money, and then cut their hair and change their walk, etc.

These women get on my nerves.  Fakes!  When you see their pictures from the streets,

I never recognize them.

   "Which one is you?"  I ask all the time.

    The woman is standing in front of me, baldheaded, sagging pants, and a young man's

demeanor, but on the picture she has on full makeup, a wig, and six inch high heels.

Many of them are also strippers.  Commissary pimps either give head for commissary,

or just collect commissary and promise the girls that they will get faded later.

Most of them are clueless on what to do with a female. 

    My grandkids read my blog, so I will keep this clean.  However, my rule was if you

attempted to partake of my private parts, you could not have had a man in 10 years

before coming to prison.  Also, you had to be gay from the streets.  I was not playing

around with a bunch of amateurs.  Having sexually relations is a 205 shot.  A shot is

an incident report.  You are going to the SHU.  You are going to be embarrassed.  All

staff and inmates are going to know what you were doing and who you were doing it

with, and some staff will even call your family and let them know what you were

caught doing.  Some staff are messy too.

    So, it was NO way I was going to play games with an amateur.  All that drama, and

not get faded?  Absolutely not! 

   Level four was my type in prison.  Gay from the streets. Had lots of swagger.  Wore

men clothing, and had lots of experience with women. 

   I made a mistake of taking a few of them home, and that was a bad decision.

My advice to all prison closet queens and pillow princesses is WHAT IS DONE IN

PRISON, STAYS IN PRISON, for real.  Women that think they are men are the best picks

in prison, but on the streets they have some serious psychological problems. 

    Of course women know this when they meet them.   When men or women dress

cross-gender, you know that it may be some other issues, and women are no different.

    On to the actual relationships.

    Turnouts are like the song by the Whispers, "Olivia the slave, gave distracted all

the way, to grandmother's house- Lost and turned out!"

      It is confusing for many people.  What makes a woman that is totally against

homosexuality change their minds in the middle of a prison bid?

     The answer rests in the change of cultures.  It is to be noted, as I said earlier

prison has its own culture.  Some aspects of prison culture mirrors the streets, and

others does not.   Inside these prison walls, you learn to work with what you have.

It is the same principle as if you were stranded on an island. 

    Maybe when you first get to the island, you are accustomed to bathing, and using

toilet paper about going to the bathroom.  Eventually, you adjust to the island culture.

There is no toilet paper, so you use leaves.  There is no bed, so you sleep on the sand.

There is no towels to bath with, so you use your hands.  There is no beef, so you eat

what is available, and your diet drastically changes.  Prison is the same way. 

   Most people do adapt and some even adjust.  After a few weeks, your resolve begins

to adjust to your environment in many instances.  Some women do not venture into

gay relationships, and remain firm in their faith in the outside world. 

    As time goes on, what looked like the unthinkable in the beginning of your bid,

becomes conceivable for many.  Hormones also play a big part in why a woman opens

Pandora's's box and allows another to turn her out.  Just because a woman is in prison,

does not mean she looses her hormones.  I commend the women that I know that remain

"strictly dickly", and stand their ground.

      Once a turn out adapts, it is a total loss of control in many instances.  Oral sex,

or any kind of sex has a spiritual component.  Many women have a large percentage of

sensitive fibers in their private area.  Oral sex between two adults is intense, and it

is total concentration on that sensitive area.  Like crack, these sort of things are not

to be toyed with.  If the person knows what they are doing, then the receiver is in

trouble.  Life no longer makes sense.  The focus becomes gaining the feeling again

and again.  Many times, all reason goes bye bye, out the window.  With a turnout,

because it is new, many have a hard time adjusting their minds back to normal, so

they just go with the flow, and the flow is all that matters.  Women began to loose

weight, because food doesn't really matter.  Who needs food, when you have partaken

of the forbidden fruit, and living it?  Weight loss is one of the symptoms of a turn out.

   You think about the things that the strange girl has done to you.  You replay the

things that the forbidden girl has done to you.  Your body revels in the feeling and

aftermath of the way the girl handled you, and then you realize that you have to have

it done again, as soon as possible.  It becomes a way of living, and what you live for,

and its all consuming.  At home, you can get away from the person, pour yourself

into your work or your family, or go shopping.  In prison, you see that person again

and again.  It takes a few weeks minimum to get your bearings back, and get back

to your old self, at the least.  Sometimes it could take months. 

    Within the last five years, it has annoyed me that there is so many bisexual

women in prison.  It is common now for a woman to tell me that she has a man and

a girlfriend at home, and that they both know about each other.  In the era I came

up in, that was unheard of, and now it is the norm.  Bisexual to me means just plain

greedy, and a freak.  Pick a team!  Equally as annoying to me is the commissary pimps.

Have you no shame?  To me they are equal to the two dollar crack whores and pill

whores, and I have told a few of them that.  You fake a relationship for commissary

and even put your mouth on a woman's privacy for a few packs of Ramon noodles or

a cup-o-soup?  Get some standards!  This is really disgusting and its common.  This

is real, and I watch it daily. 

       I also know a few women that came into prison without that House In Virginia

(HIV), and then tested positive later because of being promiscuous, and changing

girls like they change their underwear.  That happens also.  One of the women I know

was also messing with a male officer.  Now that is a different story altogether- and

when she found out he died from AIDS she tried to have her family sue the prison.

Of course they told her that it was no way to determine that she'd contracted the

disease from the deceased officer, and her law suit was thrown out.  They said that

because she had also been involved in sexual relationships during the 14 years of

her serving time, she could have contacted it from any one of her partners. 

Testing is free.  It is good to know your status.  It is also good to know who you are

dealing with and implement some standards if that is what a woman decides to do

while in prison.  Today, I would not advise it, because the risks and the headaches

are too great. 

fb/rhondaturpin