A good friend of mine and I were walking home the other night by way of Don Jail Road, for the scenery I suppose, and witnessed what was likely the end result of months and months of build up.
A sole corrections officer, Officer A we'll call him, was leaving the facility by way of the front door. It was late. Officer A was the type of guy that would not, if this was a porn movie, be the lead. No, he would be the character actor who provides comic relief. The type that usually has an underwhelming man Johnson--a flower wilting in the shadow of his enormity--who wears glasses and ends up putting the handcuffs on himself instead of the well-hung crook. . .who then later must be subdued by a large-breasted corrections officer (we'll call her Officer D) who. . .well, you get the idea.
Ahem.
So Officer A rolled himself down the ramp at the Don Jail, stopping halfway to stoop and scoop up two handfuls of snow. Surveying the side of the jail, he then appeared to bob his head, as some first graders do when counting how many brownies are left if there were a dozen and the puppy got on the counter and ate three, and threw his carefully-packed snowball at the blacked-out, barred window his head had bobbed its way to.
Noticing us noticing him, he got nervously on his way. I think that he felt a need to explain.
But he didn't. We understood perfectly.
Some convicts can be real jerks.
I would suggest to him, though, that he go home and put a snowball in his freezer (where mom won't throw it out) and wait until June when Johnny Badness gets released. Think of the surprise to be hit by a snowball then!
Of course, there is a certain safety in throwing a snowball at a man behind a blacked-out barred window.
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