In a Mess Hall, With His Chest Out

Prison seems to be a voyeur’s delight, a place far too brutal to be in but too brutal to not look in on if given a danger free opportunity to do so.  I’ve never really been one for reality shows especially the ones that actually capture reality.  I’m not an enjoyer of train wrecks.   The only thing I liked about the show “Cops” was the song.  By the time they showed a tweeker with his shirt off arguing with his “old lady”, I was already watching “Wings.”

So my decision to watch a prison show in my hotel room in London was a tad bit ill-advised.   I was lured in by the premise: A top notch restaurant in a prison, run by prisoners, caters to civilians.   See how different their prison shows are?!   The show followed 3 prisoners who wanted to work their way up from the mess hall kitchen to the prison restaurant and hopefully get duly employed upon their release.

One prisoner had the eye of the tiger…

PRISONER1: I’m gonna turn me life around mate.

PRISONER2: That’s what everybody says, mate.

PRISONER1: I’m not everybody. Ya know wha I mean?!

Okay, I’m in.  Let’s see the wayward blokes filet their way from prison bars to five stars.  Only 1 made it.  It was the one with the eye of the tiger.  The other two seemed to prefer prison, both squandering the opportunity by deliberately breaking prison rules.

It may have done me good to hear people with English accents who are bad asses.  It’s hard for American ears to hear English accents and feel danger.   The Brooklyn handbook discourages sleeping on anyone at anytime.   I know they’re hooligans and we know England has given us multiple heavyweight boxing champs.  So they’re not to be taken lightly but honestly even the bad asses make me smile when they talk.

I think the show helped me make great strides in respecting English thugs when one prisoner stabbed another in the face.  It’s all fun and games until someone gets stabbed in the face.

If that doesn’t stop my sleeping, nothing will.  When you think about it, English bad asses are worse because they get up close and personal with their victims.   If shooting someone is baking a cake, stabbing someone is making that cake from scratch in a wood stove.  Anyone can throw egg in a mix and bake it but how many are willing to sweat and toil over an old stove with no recipe and the barest of materials.

This blog didn’t set out to be an anti-gun blog but think, how many cakes would you have baked if there was no instant cake mix?

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