27 Jul 08

Two Tonys and Warrior at Rec (by Two Tonys Part 2)

Two Tonys - A whacker of men and Mafia associate serving multiple life sentences for murders and violent crimes. Left bodies from Tucson to Alaska, but claims all his victims "had it coming."

So I turn to the Mexican and he says, “When did you get here?”
I say, “Hey! How you been?” acting like I recall him but I don’t.
He said, Cool, man. Good to see you again.”
So me and Skids resume our walk.
I ask Skids, “Who are those guys?”
He says, “The one you talked to is Toto. They think they’re badasses. They just hang out together and look down their noses at most of the Mexicans.”
I say, “Yeah. I picked up on that yeah-we’re-bad vibe.”

So as we’re walking laps, we pass these guys as they do their routine pushups and stuff.
I give Toto a nod and an alright as I go by the second time. He returns the nod.
Now as me and skids are walking along I hear this voice and the shuffle of feet coming up behind me fast.
And the voice is yelling, “Move! Move!”
So I spin and jump out of the way as does Skids.
These four eses jog on by at a pretty good clip.
So I regain my composure and say to Skids, “What’s up with that shit?”
He says, “Oh, that’s nothing. They’re just jogging a lap.”
So I say, “Oh, yeah. They just roll up behind us and yell, ‘Move! Move!’ like we’re a couple of retard lames. That’s no respect. I got to let them know not to run up on me like that.” So I take off walking.
They’re just finishing their lap on the other side of the track.
Skids says, “Oh, they didn’t mean nothing. They’re good guys.” He’s shitting. He’s a weak motherfucker and I knew it. But I didn’t give a shit. I wasn’t counting on him or anyone else. I’m in the zone and I’m hot. I’m brand new in this building and I’m going to get yelled at like some old punk! It ain’t happening again.

Now, I aint no fool. These are young healthy in-shape want-to-be-tough dudes. But as I said earlier about respect – standing up for yourself is a way of life. Fuck the ass-kickings. I’ve woke up in hospitals with tubes in my nose. It hurts, but it heals. Losing that respect is forever, it never heals. So I’m going to have my say and let the chips fall. Fuck the hole, the gun tower. I go, they go. I know they’ll smash me, but I won’t be yelled at.

Now I don’t go trying to recruit others. I’m solo. Skids takes off. He’s going for Shotcaller.
As I go by, I hear Shotcaller yelling for me to wait. Fuck waiting!
I go up to these four guys and say I say to Toto, “Hey, ese, understand what I’m saying here: when I’m walking laps and you guys are coming up behind me, you don’t have to start yelling, ‘Move! Move!’ like I’m a lame. All you got to do is give me a, ‘Coming through,’ or a, ‘Behind you,’ to me. I got respect. It’s a track. I’ll move over for you. Show respect, you’ll get respect. Toto, you know that.”
One of the other eses says in a real shitty tone, “Oh, we know you’ll move.”
By this time, Shot caller is there. I look and I see Warrior with him and an old pal of mine called Cowboy.
Skids didn’t come. He’s back with the water cooler. Watching.
I respond with, “Hey, ese, I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but I’ll tell you right now, I ain’t the one to be moving on demands. It will be what it will be.” Then I just walked on by. By myself.
Shotcaller stayed behind and engaged them in conversation.
As I made a lap and was getting ready to pass them again, Shotcaller was ahead on the track by the gate.
I felt a guy come up along side of me. It was Warrior. Now he’s Mexican, so I wasn’t sure what was up. So he starts talking to me about Tucson as we pass these four eses. When we’re past them, Warrior says, “Hey fuck those guys. They ain’t all that. I already got down with him. His name’s Al. He tries to be hard. He was probably the one yelling, ‘Move! Move! I’ve seen him do that with others.”
I say, “Well I’m not coming out here to be yelled at. I don’t yell. I won’t put up with it.”

So that was my first night at rec and some shit almost flew. It would have been a shame. We all go to the hole. I probably get hurt. But the big shame would be to come out to rec and walk and have those four assholes yell at me every rec period. It won’t happen. This is prison. Certain lines can’t be crossed. Certain names can’t be called. There are rules. They’re unwritten, but they’re there and have been for years. It’s a 21st Century prison, and adapting is important, but so is respect and pride.

Me and Warrior talked. I checked around about him. He had beefs with a lot of bullies who thought they could muscle him. He fooled them. Choir boy face and all. But he’s not a crazy. He just wants his respect like we all do. Me and him have become close. He’s a good friend.

They moved Shotcaller down to Building 2 along with Mekong Mike who’s a Jesus nut.
What’s funny is the four eses never yelled at me again. I even talked to Toto a few times. I never liked them. Since then, they all four got busted with dope and had to go to the hole. They seem to have trouble adapting.
Skids went to the hole for making hootch and being drunk.
Me and Warrior and a couple of other good guys hang out together. I’m the old man, but we all enjoy each other’s company. I’ll miss these guys when they get out. But there will be some new friends come along. Only the actors change. The roles remain the same.
Hey! It’s like when you and I separated. I missed your English ass. You’re a good bloke. You did your number in your own style, but you did it good. But you know me and some others always had your back, even when you didn’t know it. It was a pleasure, me lad, a real pleasure.

Take care,

Two Tonys


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