No one would pick us up. Finally outside a gas station a cook from the local prison gave us a ride in his pick up. I sat up front with him and talked as he drove us to Dover. He had an old swastika carved in his forearm. He made a point to say he had done some stupid things in his youth and went on to talk about the prison system and his job. He snuck his inmates desserts on extra days to keep the peace. He onted how prisons with better food tend not to riot as much. I think he was a pretty alright dude. Afterall, he was the only one who would pick the three of us up. We were filthy.
Learning to die!!!!
nickact 1 year ago