The bright blue of the morning on my rain-free morning ride heralded the beginning of another day, one removed from the strangeness of the one before. I arrived a little early from my afternoon bus ride yesterday and decided to loiter in front of furlough sipping on my water bottle. I eventually make it in after one of the officer's stepped out looking for me (they had noticed me on camera when I initially parked my bike, and wondered where I went).

I went in and went through my usual routine: breathalyze, pack up the wallet and cell phone, and then get patted down. I joked after I breathalyzed that the water was so that I wouldn't blow numbers.

I go upstairs and head down to the penthouse, which is the room at the end of the hallway that shares a bathroom with no one, just to see if they got a new bunkie (over the weekend, they had petitioned to a senior officer to move a new bunkie in so that they'd be three deep, hoping to keep a new guy out). They did, but while there, they informed me that Bullet had gotten rolled up.

Bullet originally got Risk back in November when Cesar, 101, and Jay (who, as the only white guy in a room of Mexicans, they dubbed as an honorary member of Colonia, Newbury Park Chapter) all still lived there in 225. Many players would come and go, and it made the weekends go by really fast.

Last Saturday, with everyone already running low on patience because of the rain, the TV room witness a flare up between another inmate who wanted the lights off to watch a football game, and Bullet who wanted the lights on so that he could play Risk. Threats were thrown around, and yesterday they rolled him up for inmate intimidation. I was in on that Risk game, and we never finished it.

Sitting in my room waiting for the 9pm cleanup to finish, I noticed that the 225, the assigned room of the evening was practically empty. That's why it was taking so long to do cleanup: there was no one doing it. The new bunkie that arrived in 225 wasn't yet accustomed to the daily grind of Camp Furlough. It turned out that one of Bullet's other bunkies, Bobby, got rolled up as well for being at home instead of being at work. This would normally result in a major write up, to the tune of two extra weeks added to your sentence, but it feels like he got rolled because of his association with Bullet.

My bunkies and I sat in our rooms discussing all of this, and we get counted like normal, but another officer came through about five minutes later and did a random room breathalyze. Three rooms were pegged: the room next to 225, the room across (mine), and another room down the hall that housed two inmates who were already under watchful eye. After release from count, officers could be seen trolling through the halls, peering into rooms and into the TV room as well. Many speculated that they were trying to do a sweep for gambling and other activities, but Bullet's rollup already had everyone on high alert. Nothing was found, and no one was caught.