Tales From The Bughouse

Reads: 324  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

True tales from maximum security hospital.

Submitted: July 04, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 04, 2018






When you work as a security counselor/guard at a Security Hospital you usually get assigned a "one to one" patient. What that means is if the patient needs to talk or has a problem or needs anything from the outside like clothes, cigarettes, hygiene products, etc. - it's your job to handle it and then report the information to his social worker.


My second one to one was a one eyed Indian named Dan.  Dan had the Mentally Ill & Dangerous designation which means basically is that he has a life sentence in the nuthouse. Only a judge can remove the Dangerous label and very few judges want to put their ass on the line to do that.  No judge wants to let a dude back on to the streets and the first thing he does is rape a kid, fuck a dog, or cut some poor bastard's head off.


My first one to one was a little fucker also named Dan who I had hated. The needy little fucker was always wanting to talk to me to assure him that everything going "OK" and hung around the security bubble because he was afraid of getting punked by another patient - which was a valid fear.


Dan the Indian was in for child molestation - multiple counts - and was crazy as a rat in a tin shithouse. He had lost his eye when the voices in his head had told him to gouge out his own eye, pour gas in the open socket, and then set it afire.


He wore a buckskin patch over the gnarly socket and one would keep half a smoked cigarette in there for safekeeping.


One time we had a huge lice outbreak amongst the 20 patients locked down on our unit and it turned out that Dan had a case of head lice and was blowing the other patients for cigarettes and extra desserts at meal time. While giving the blow jobs the lice on his head were jumping on to the pubic hair of the nut who was getting oral pleasure from Dan.  The other guards were irritated at me because of the mass cleaning and sterilization that we had to do on the unit - as if Dan blowing the other inmates had been my fault!


One a evening shift, Dan signaled me while I was sitting in the security bubble that he needed to speak to me.


I went out on the unit and Dan and I took a seat at one of the tables. Dan was down in the dumps and wanted to vent.


It seemed that when he called home to his family on the reservation that they were refusing his collect calls.


He looked at me seriously with his one eye and said, "You know, I fuck my  sister just one time, and my family just can't seem to forget it!"


While trying to keep  a straight face I had replied, "Ya, Dan. Sometimes families just don't understand that kind of behavior."






I was making my first round on the unit when Dan (the one eyed Indian) approached me. You never knew what shit he was going to babble and I was getting ready to blow him off since I had more pressing things to attend to.


"I want to get my eye back!" He blurted out as he walked up to me.


"What the fuck are you talking about, Dan?" I responded. "I don't think you're eligible for an eye transplant." Hell, I didn't even know if there are such things as an eye transplant - other than the Tom Cruise flick Minority Report , I had given the matter zero thought. 


And even if it was possible I seriously doubted that an incarcerated inmate in the Minnesota Security Hospital would be considered for such a complex surgery. Especially since he had gouged his own eye out!


"Have you ever been to Duluth?" He asked.


Shit, this conversation was going nowhere.


"Yes, Dan. I used to live in Duluth." My mind was wandering to my first morning cup of coffee and if there was a chocolate doughnut still left in the Dunkin' Donuts box in the security bubble.


"Do you know where Last Place On Earth is."


"You mean the head shop on Superior Street? Of course." Last Place was probably the most famous head shop in Northern Minnesota.


"I pawned my glass eye right across the street from there."


Shit! There was a pawn shop right across the street from there. This conversation was starting to get interesting even though it was all probably delusional bullshit on his part.


I looked at my watch, it was only 0630 in the morning. "I tell you what, Dan. They probably don't open until around 10, I'll give them a call then and see if they still have it." It'd give me something fun to do.


Without another word, he wandered over to the breakfast cart to get another cup of decaf - caffeine was a prohibited substance since it interfered with the cocktail of medications all the patients were on. The conversation over, he probably had more pressing matters to attend to, one of which wasn't taking a shower. Dan had a constant horrible and pungent odor and I was always having to field complaints about Dan not bathing or washing his clothes.


Promptly at 10 I called information and got the phone number for the pawn shop.


To my astonishment the guy who answered the phone knew immediately what I was talking about. "Yea! This crazy fucking Indian came in and pawned it for 25 bucks. I have it here on the counter for a conversation piece. Man, that motherfucker was drunk as hell! He had a bottle of Thunderbird in his jacket pocket."


I told him that the eye was state property and I'd have Dan's social worker give him a call about cutting him a check. 


When his social worker called, he told her he didn't really give a shit if it was state property or not. He was running a business and he wanted 50 bucks for it! They finally negotiated it down to $40 and he'd pay for shipping.


When the eye showed up, Dan promptly popped it in and strutted around the unit like a cocky rooster, showing his eyeball off to both staff and patients.


I didn't know that you had to lube up the eye with some Vaseline or some other lubricant or your eyelid would stick to it, which of course, Dan totally ignored. So his eyelid was always stuck in the half blink position.


On top of it, the state looked like they had cheaply bought the fucking thing from a taxidermist. It looked like the glass eye that you'd use when you mounted a deer head.


The overall effect was hideous! 


But totally appropriate for the atmosphere.









© Copyright 2020 Scott.Anderson. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments: