When I visited Gary this afternoon, he showed up wearing latex examination gloves, a new and rather curious addition to his uniform, so I asked him what was up.
He looked at me very seriously and informed me he had been ordered to help search new inmates, hunt for contraband, strip search…he snapped the wrist of one of the gloves for dramatic effect. He said he had been at it all morning. (I’ll spare you the details he gave me of what this job entailed.)
I was stunned. “What?! Why on earth are you doing that?”
He looked at me solemnly and said, “Sweetheart, I’m in jail. I have to do what they tell me to do.”
Horrified, I started looking around for a guard, announcing that I would put an end to this nonsense right now…when I saw a sneaky half-grin flicker across Gary’s face.
“I always wear these when I’m working in the laundry room,” he finally admitted. “I don’t like touching other guys’ underwear.” Then he had himself a good laugh for putting me on. “You should have seen your face!”
I’ll have the last laugh. Like a good, devoted, loving girlfriend, tonight I started downloading songs to make a CD to keep in the car for the day I finally pick him up.