Who do I vent to?

{:sick}
This particular night, was early in my career. The van has three cages. One shorter L shaped behind the drivers cab, and two more, behind that, length wise the length of the van. Each cages sits, on average four bodies. No more, maybe one more if their all cracked out.

It was the the final drop of the night. He was about 6'4. Handsome in his suit, brown I think. Italian leather shoes. He was well spoken and polite. He had just been sentenced to 30 years for aggravated rape. I couldn't fathom this handsome, soft spoken guy who seemed adequately educated as he stood before me while I handcuffed him, and packaged him up for his trip.

I couldn't let it be. He stood very still before me as I wrapped the chain around his waist. I felt that I should apologize as I clicked shut the master pad lock that held his restraints in their final resting spot for this client.

My partner was down in the van. Waiting with the cage door opened for the next
"victim." We say that in jest . A sort of "black humor" that we seem to use to keep our feelings at bay with all that we see. It didn't seem funny tonight. As I walked him to the elevator to descend to his destiny, I asked him. Not sure if I should, but knowing I had to know. I looked up at him. He had kind eyes, and worn look to his face. I tired look of disbelief.

"How did you get yourself into this?" You look totally unlike the people I usually move." My way of putting the fact that I tranport more likely looking candidates. I know I shouldn't profile, but, they all "look the part" if you will. Even when their attorneys clean them up, make them cut their hair and shower and shave..they still, "look the part" that is their true being.

He looked at me with a sad smile and spoke in a quiet but confident voice. I travel a lot. I hired a prostitue one night. She told me it would be $200.00 . ("It"being, what I thought was..you know, 'the deed". I was so proud of myself thinking I was so street smart to know what 'It" meant.) He continued. "So, I said fine. And then when it was over, she wanted $500.00. I said "No way!" She ran to the cops and cried rape. And here I am." I stood there like a jerk just looking at him. My mind saying, " A prostitute? What the hell do you need with a prostitute". I guess he read my face as he then spoke again. "Hey, I'm an educated guy. I have money and good job. I don't have trouble getting women, I just didn't need the strings and wanted to be with someone that night.' I almost trip coming out of the elevator as I feel like, "holy shit, I crossed the line and now he's getting an attitude and I didn't even say anything. What the hell kind of look do I have on my face?? That's the last time I EVER say anything to one of these guys."

So, into the cage he climbs. We drive in silence to Walpole. My first time as well as his. My partner pulls up to the door and starts to get out. I pipe up and say, "I'll take him in." He shrugs and sits back. I take off my weapon, extra mags, Asp, and mace. I leave it on the seat and lock the door. I turn and look at this place, in the night. It looks like something from an old mid-evil time movie. The white cement walls rise into the night mist probably 50 feet high. Towers at each corner with a pair of gunmen in them. Spotlights swirl in the darkness like a car dealership having a gigantic sale. The silence is broken by the sound of yelling. Curses rise over the wall in the night. I wonder what I have gotten myself into as I volunteered to walk this man into his own peer elected hell....{to be continued as "The Walk"}