The Dinner Bell
A commotion started in the cells as the CO rang the dinner bell. The cells across the aisle were served first. The dinner menu was a choice of cheese or peanut butter sandwich and a carton of milk.
The mere thought of both items sickened me and irritated my wheat and dairy allergies. No dinner tonight. My body had already begun to shutdown, I was cold and miserable, and still very hungry.
“You gonna eat?” The mixed race man sitting next to me asked. I say man, but he couldn’t have been more than 20.
“No”
“Get me a sandwich then, just stand in line and grab me one.” I didn’t want to take on the task, but didn’t know what would result if I protested. When our cell was opened for dinner, I got in line and picked up a cheese sandwich and milk.
He took it without even a thank you. I guess politeness isn’t common place in jail. I sat and watched as the men in the various holding cells ate, wishing I wasn’t here. Suddenly, I was struck that I was the only white guy in the 3 cells I could see, nearly 60 men.