When I was transferred to a different facility in 2004, I didn't have a lot of interest in continuing to work as a plumber.  I had no clue whether the working conditions at this prison would be similar to those I had encountered before, but my enthusiasm for that job had pretty much run its course.  It was clear to me that not only would I be paid a lot less than in the past if I wanted to work on the plumbing detail again, but there was little hope that I'd get along as well with my new boss (whoever that might be) as I had with my old one.  "Mr. A" was truly a decent guy, taught me a lot about plumbing, and never treated me as less than a human being the whole time I had worked with him.  I'm sure part of that was because I worked hard and did what I was supposed to do, but he was a decent person to everyone, and even treated the troublemakers with kid gloves and an overdeveloped sense of fairness.  Actually, most of the CO's at that facility had been rather easygoing.  All the way wanted was to know you'd do your job, not create problems, be where you were supposed to be, and if you couldn't handle a task let them know before it turned into a mess. 

During the orientation process at the new facility, I realized I simply wanted something easier, something which required little skill and even less thinking, but which would still take up part of my day and keep me on a fixed routine.  The obvious choice was to work as an orderly in the housing unit.  A few of the inmates I was already familiar with from my prior prison introduced me to the head orderly, the former Mayor of a New Jersey town who had been convicted of various fraud and embezzlement offenses.  After talking to me and the people I knew, "Ruiz" decided I was just the kind of person he could use to run "the cage" during the week.

Unlike the other prison, this one made cleaning materials available to the orderlies.  However, because of regulations, they were not left out for general use.  Instead, an orderly kept them locked in a large metal cage, passing them out each morning to inmates and orderlies to clean floors, bathrooms, and anywhere else they'd been assigned.  My job was to keep the chemical containers full, both the spray bottles and the larger jugs.  I had to go to the stockroom every few days to replenish the supplies of scouring powder, gloves, and other necessities.  I also had to help one of the assistant head orderlies wheel all the empty jugs down at least once a day to refill them with disinfectant and glass or floor cleaner, and assist with passing out the weekly ration of toilet paper whenever that came up.  I also kept the cage area clean, wiped down the ice machine, tried to maintain clean mop heads and buckets, and helped out whenever necessary with other simple tasks.   I worked from the morning until around 3pm Monday through Friday, with another inmate doing nights and weekends.  Together we also shared responsibility of maintaining a supply of cleaning rags (which often were cut-up towels or old washcloths) and washing a bag of them whenever we got low.  That was one of the more difficult tasks, because not only did you need to locate an open washing machine, but you also had to fight for a turn in one of the dryers (when they worked).  Since you couldn't stand guard over the rags all day, you had to hope that nobody pulled your rags out before they were dry so they could stuff their clothes in instead.  This was a constant problem when it came to your regular clothes, so with the rags it could be a nightmare.  The best solution I usually found was to get into a dryer, and then do somebody you could trust "a favor" by telling him he could dry his clothes before the rage if he promised to make sure the rags went in next.  Often there would be two or three bags of wet clothes sitting on top of each dryer, waiting in line, and unless you had somebody watching for you the popular trick was to switch the order of the bags around, or to simply jump in front of everybody and claim you were there in the first place.  Anyway, the rags were a pain in the ass, but overall the job was pretty simple.  You just had to be willing to be constantly interrupted all day long by people who needed a spray bottle or a scouring pad or something else.

Another part of the job, which I was introduced to soon after being hired, was to help Ruiz with one of this little sideline business hustles.  All of the cubicle floors (As well as the hallways and corridors) had wax on them, but access to the wax was magically restricted.  If the wax on your floor became too scuffed or dirty, you could be written up by staff until you stripped it down and applied new wax.  However, since Ruiz was the only one you could get the wax or stripper from, you had to either bribe him in some way to get access, or else do the simple thing and pay him to do the stripping and waxing for you.  During weekly inspections it was a normal sight to see Ruiz following the CO around, pointing out various cubes which needed to be waxed.  Sure enough, those inmates would get warnings to have it done before the next inspection, and Ruiz would have himself some easy money.  Then he could offer the inmates a regular cleaning service, wiping down and mopping the cube a few times a week, including a buff job on the wax and new wax once every two months...all for a price, of course.  If you could afford it, I suppose it was a mutually beneficial solution.  All the orderlies had to help Ruiz in small ways, but if you were one of the ones who did the actual cleaning or buffing you'd be paid a small fee out of what he charged the other inmates, and you'd also be assured of a decent monthly paycheck (which would run somewhere between $15 and $40).  Because I ran the cage, I also was responsible for preparing Ruiz's wax setup kit, including wax, an applicator, stripper, and the necessary buffing and stripping machines and pads.  When he gave me instructions to do so, I was also supposed to pass out "wax" to other inmates for their own use.  But he kept the "free" wax in a special container, and it was usually at least 50% diluted with water.  So no matter how hard you tried, you could never get your wax job to look as good as the one Ruiz and his crew could do for you. 

I wasn't that happy being part of all of these hustles, but there didn't seem to be much of an alternative.  Besides I was making a lot less money as an orderly as I had as the head plumber, so I needed whatever income I could find.  Since I knew that really nobody HAD to pay Ruiz for anything, especially to clean their cubicles as I made sure ample supplies were available for free if somebody wanted to do their own (and plenty of people did), I was able to go about my business without too much difficulty.  As I had as a plumber, I was diligent in my work, tried hard, took pride in making sure things were running smoothly, and figured this would be an easy way to occupy my time without getting into any kind of trouble.

As it turned out, trouble decided to search me out.  And it all started when the CO told me to sweep and mop his little office in the housing unit building.

(to be continued - watch for Part 2 sometime in the next few days)