public schools

It occurrs to me some days that I don't really work at a school. I work at a Holding Tank.

Let me share a little bit with you, and I'm sure you will understand.

Inmates are restricted to a small space, and there are too many of them. They are fed awful stuff, loaded with excess simple carbohydrates to ensure that the guards work hard for their money.

Restroom facilities are locked. Permission must be obtained to go to the restroom, and the head guard must be located to unlock the facilities. This is because inmates have repeatedly tried to set fires in the restrooms and use them more often to do drugs than to use the toilets.

In the room with you are: persons under the influence, drug dealers, gangsters who have beaten a fellow inmates head against the sink causing a broken nose, sniveling brats, wiseasses who are cracking joke after joke, none of them funny, in an effort to make the time pass more quickly, girls who have been picked up for looking like prostitutes, girls who have been picked up for acting like prostitutes, a shrieking guard who is calling the warden down every two minutes, a guard who mills about silently, for the most part, occasionally sending people up to see the warden, a guard who is tall, scary, and makes horrible threats that don't get followed up upon, and a psychotic guard who looks as stoned as the inmates because she has not been sleeping enough. Periodically, the assistant warden or the warden will wander down for a stroll through. This riles the inmates up, and as soon as they are gone, the level of interaction increases dramatically.