In the free world, I tend to get myself in situations that allow for my loved ones and friends to make fun of me or enjoy a laugh at my expense. My wife and kids find great joy in these moments. Despite my great efforts to not continue this in Prison, the trend seems to roll on. My wife has insisted that I share of these Prison moments with you.
So, on my second day, I asked a guy at lunch of a seat was taken. Big mistake. He proceeded to give me a lecture on the fact that I could sit anywhere I wanted and to never let anyone tell me different. He knew I was brand new, and he was trying to help in a “prison” sort of way. I later found out that this gentlemen had been locked up for a long time and had moved down from higher security institutions. Another words, he was a guy that had experienced a lot more of Prison than the average guy. These guys are some of the most interesting guys, they know the system and operate with a level of respect learned from navigating much more intense environments.
Over the next two weeks, I began to settle in. I begin to notice that the fist bump is the official prison handshake. Being the friendly fella that I am, I began fist bumping. On a couple of fist bump encounters, I notice that the exchange is a bit awkward. Not every time, but sometimes and with different people. It seems that a few inmates go out of there way to use their right fist to bump. I even wonder if they are doing this to protect their watch. I don’t think much more about it, and continue fist bumping around the prison yard.
A few days later, as I am walking down the compound sidewalk…I see the scary gentleman from the second day lunch encounter. We had seen each other a few times since and he had always said hello and treated me well. So, being the new Prison fist bumper that I am, I extend a big happy left handed fist bump. HUGE MISTAKE. He stopped dead in his tracks and looks at me like I just insulted him deeply. He says “Don’t you ever fist bump me or anyone else with your left hand”! I stand there like the middle aged suburban Dad that I am and just look at him. His face finally relaxes and he explains that anything less than a right handed fist bump is disrespectful. All my awkward fist bump memories come flooding back to me. Apparently, no one was afraid that I was going to steal their watch, they were just confused as to why the new white collar criminal guy was throwing around left handed fist bumps.
So despite all my preparation, it appears I still have a lot to learn. When I get out of here, and you see me on the street, you better not try to fist bump me with your left hand. Or else.
