Back in ‘89 I got busted by Madison WI cops who just happened to have a DEA agent along for the ride. That made my arrest Federal, and not a state bust. Due to the prevailing nature of The Law in which an LSD carrier medium (in my case blotter paper) weight was included in mandatory minimum sentencing, I earned myself a five year bit for only 1000 hits. Due to the nature of my situation, I was released on personal bond for the few months between sentencing and having to self-surrender at Federal Prison Camp (FPC) Duluth, Mn. I had a friend drive me there. Smoked my last (for awhile) joint as we drove into the facility.
Other’s are not so lucky, and are given a harder row to hoe. Martin Shkreli smacks of the type of inmate who will, in all likelihood, end up undergoing what is known within the system as “Bus Therapy”
If Martin had played the contrite convict, chances are the court would have left him alone to the degree it saves money by not having to house the idiot, or require Federal Marshals to drive him to court and back to his jail cell. His crime was securities fraud & conspiracy, no drugs, no guns, no gang bangers, nor thieving under cover of night. The court would have probably let him do a self-surrender at one of the “posher” level 1 facilities, maybe Allentown PA.
But he just couldn’t help making an ass of himself, and I believe it is this type of behavior that will mark him as a troublemaker if he is ever released into general population. The offer of money for a follicle from Hillary’s head smacks of physical assault and this is a crime very different from the white-collar crimes he has been convicted of. The judge was right to revoke his probation for this provocative act. I think right about now Martin is very much regretting his decision to set a bounty on Hill’s hair.
Which lock-up is he in right now? I cannot claim to know however no simple county facility will want this clown, this arrogant rabble rouser. I mean, that is one punchable face and before too long, other inmates will tire of his attitude and do us all that favor: we just may never have the pleasure of seeing his blackened eyes or bloodied lip but I’m pretty sure sooner or later he will get what’s coming to him.
It is possible that this is his temporary new home, the Metropolitan Correctional Center in New York city.
He will be transported between his lock-up location and his court appearances courtesy of the US Marshals. He will be shackled in transit: wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs, a chain around his waist and all these tied into a “lock box” at his waist.
This is what Martins new home (for now) will look like.
Every morning Martin must make up his bed: he will not be allowed to linger in it, or snooze away his time. The hours stretch out when you share a cellblock with 20 or so other people. Tempers are short, patience even shorter. If he makes a dick out of himself, which is about the only thing I can see him doing, he will not only earn the enmity of his fellow convicts, but more importantly he will find himself on the wrong side of the jailers’ good side. He will quite likely land himself in Administrative Segregation, aka The Hole. Time is even longer in The Hole. And due to prison overcrowding I can pretty much assure you he will be required to share his Hole with another inmate. He will spend 23 out of 24 hours in a very small cell, with another person, and get out for exercise for only 1 hour daily.
I am sure he will have his lawyers load up his commissary account so he can buy candy bars, stamps, and sundries like a pair of shower slippers. I wish I had shower slippers, BUT NOOO! and I ended up losing a toenail to a fungal infection during my stay. Damn nail hasn’t grown in properly ever since.
But when you are in Administrative Segregation there is no guarantee you can access the commissary. Indeed, you only get your wham whams and zuzus (as we used to call them at annual Rainbow Gatherings) if you behave and don’t make waves.
The cell block will have one TV and you have to share the channels with the other guys who invariably want to watch every godam cop show they can watch. Its some sort of perverse reverse pleasure to watch someone else get busted down, like they were. I predict Martin will find his days long, tedious, and set on the edge of violence. Most of his fellows will be cigarette smokers and these days smoking is simply not allowed in lock-ups, nationwide. While I was held in county facilities as a minor drug bustee, smoking was tightly controlled using a glow wire attached to the wall to light up from. No bics, no matches. And if the cell block has been misbehaving, the glow wire is turned off. At this stage the last man with a lit cig is everyone’s friend. Everyone who wants to light up that is.
A cell block full of semi-dangerous inmates addicted to nicotine yet cut off from their drug is a miserable place to be. Martin may be fortunate enough to be assigned to a cell block full of non-smokers, but its quite likely the admin will not give a shit when it comes to this inmate.
Upon sentencing, Martin will get to dream of the posh Club Feds we have all heard stories of. In my case, I only had to stay at the one location, in Duluth MN. It was a re-furbished Air National Guard Base, with WWII era dormitories to bunk in. In good times there were only 3 men to a room, two pairs of bunks & 3 or maybe 4 lockers. In times when the overall prison population soared we had 4 men per room. No bars on the windows, no bars on the doors. In Level 1 Minimum Security you do have a lot of freedom, like the freedom to watch TV at midnight on the first floor or if the show you want isn’t on that TV, walk upstairs to the other TV room and see what they are watching. Now thats freedom of movement!
FPC Duluth had all the frills a Club Fed could offer: full size movie theater with recent-release VCR or DVD movies every night, maybe a bag of fresh hot popcorn and a can of soda. The athletic stuff was nearly endless in Duluth: track, baseball teams, bocci courts for the old mafiosos, tennis, handball, and various weight & exercise equipment. FPC Duluth also featured a 6 lane bowling alley I kid you not. Came with the Air Base you know. The inmates kept the machinery running, and the shoes, well, from running. Yes, real bowling shoes. Personally during my nickel (a five year period, sometimes marked with a teardrop tat though usually those indicate number of kills) I never found the time to get in a frame as I was either in the band room jamming with friends or in the art rooms painting or throwing some pottery. I thrived in prison, much to my father’s chagrin. Other people don’t thrive so well, and just turn greyer and greyer. Older & older. Days filled with card games and minor hustles and nothing to really show for it at the end of the road.
As a deadhead/rainbow, I guess I was able to convince myself “you have to be somewhere” so make a go of it, if you can. I don’t see Martin Shkreli as having the insight or patience to, as I did, actually enjoy the time. Fill it with activities. I painted, a lot.
And I started making ceramic dumbeks with cow hide skins. That became a useful income source for me with other inmates looking for unique gifts to send their children on birthdays or Christmas.
Martin, however, may not see such recreational facilities for a very. long. time. Why? Because I don’t think he has the humility or patience to be granted access to such luxuries.
My money says he’ll do some very boring time in an MCC during the wait for his sentencing. He will, by then, be very eager to get on any bus they allow him to. He simply does not rate being flown. It may very well be that the Federal Prison folks have a hard time placing him, depending on his behavior going forward. This is where Bus Therapy comes in.
Martin will require transportation, and it may be that he stays on the bus for months. Moving from site to site during the day, lead into whatever county lockup they happen to be in that day to pick up or drop off someone. He will never see general population while On The Bus. He will be kept in Administrative Segregation at each and every location. His commissary account will forever be lagging behind him so he will land in each lock-up flat-ass-broke, and relying on the kindness of strangers for the simplest of pleasures. A Snickers bar. A Postal stamp.
And according to overcrowding at any facility, he may require asking others for permission to use their toilet, in their cell, while he lives on a mat on the floor for a few days until the Bus packs up again for the road.
He will be handcuffed, and ankle cuffed, with a chain around his waist connected to both sets of cuffs. He will spend the day riding in tight quarters, surrounded by bigger, badder dudes than he, and after a few weeks will cherish each stop at each county lockup just for the joy of not breathing diesel fumes.
Bus Therapy will break any man or woman, if you insist on having to do it. The intelligent inmate learns quickly to keep your head down, don’t make waves, and don’t piss off the other inmates or guards.
I think Martin Shkreli will spend a lot of time riding the bus back and forth around the country until he pays his lawyers enough to convince the government its time to let him land somewhere.