Tent City
In my time on this planet I have been to many different places I find uncomfortable. It ranges all the way from counseling classes or crowded and hectic emergency rooms where Im squished between people that keep coughing or sneezing contaminating the air that surrounds me with “their” sickness. The place that I have found to be the most intolerable is Tent City (the jail) which I would consider being parallel to a modern day concentration camp. Upon my arrival there I had to spend an excruciating thirteen hours during the intake process bouncing from holding tank to holding take like a rock star on tour doing a show in a different city every night. They would stuff as many of us as they could in each dungeon leaving us in the narrow corridor rubbing elbows and pressed together as if we were riding the subway in New York City during rush hour. This made it hard to eat our nutritious, or more so lack of nutrition, lunch bags provided by our fearless leader Sheriff Joe Arpaio. As I sat with a growing anticipation they would call us out by the threes to fives to give us our brand new uniforms for our brand new home. After what seemed like forever and a day my name was finally called to join my comrades in the common area provided for us. It was pitch black at night with no stars in the sky and barely the presences of a moon to illuminate the long walk to my designated tent. As I entered my destination the smell was a mixture of stail air and of a locker room right after a strenuous workout in 115 degree weather. When I found my bunk there was no mattress so I was forced to sleep on cold steel that would make a suction cup sound every time I adjusted my body to try to get comfortable. I tossed and turned all night praying to see the sun come over the horizon so that I may get a chance to roam freely and explore the place that will be my new home for the next few months. Day light couldn’t have came soon enough and when it did I jumped at the opportunity to exit my hell hole and express my displeasure with the fact that my living quarters weren’t up to standards.
The detention officer gave me the permission to rummage through tents in the back to find a mattress. I searched through those tents like a treasure hunter deep in a cave searching for their big score that would land them what their hearts desired. Once I found my treasure I took it to my bunk immediately so that I may try to get some type of rest before we had to go to breakfast in the Day Room. As I rested on my bed it felt no better than the cold hard