My first contact with a jailhouse lawyer, amazingly, did not occur until a good three months into the netherworld of the DOC. Netherworld being a trip to court. A mainstay of the ‘backstairs justice system’ the court trip is something straight out of hell. My average court trip began at 3 am, lasted through to 8-9 pm – at the earliest. A day of chains, stuffed into vans, buses, the insidious ‘ice-cream truck’, holding cells last cleaned during the Cuban Missle Crisis, and horrible, disgusting things found only in fevered nightmares or David Finch movies.
All this, and more, for what was usually a ten to fifteen second hearing or, even worse, a continuance no one had bothered to tell the DOC about (or had, and … but more on that at a much later date).
I found the wannabe Lionel Hutz in the holding tank back at Bridgeport CC
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