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Friday, March 23, 2012

The Great Escape

The day McMullen left was a day like any other day. Routine is the routine in jail. The same things happen the same time every day. The saying everybody says sooner or later is, "Same shit, different day." (Great place to work, huh?)

Okay, I really don't have anything else to say about McMullen's escape. I just figured I should at least try a little bit to comment on it. I mean, it is allegedly the main event of this whole sordid tale. Allegedly. It's just that is was so damn uneventful and, to be completely honest (despite what I say about being a liar and telling truth about lying), looking back on it all now, so damn easy. Yeah, it was easy. I mean, the freakin' guy just walked out the freakin' front door! Literally. Just walked right out the front door. They LET him out. He had on street clothes and a fake ID and just walked out the fucking front door like he owned the damn place. It was beautiful. It went smoother than a new born baby's wet butt sliding in the bath tube. Which makes for a very happy escapee and accomplice, but unfortunately, doesn't make for good drama. I mean, you could only imagine what McMullen was feeling as he made his way out through the various steel gates like he was Maxwell Smart or something. He must have been shitting bricks. But other than that internal bit of high drama, everything external was normal, calm, cool and collected. A walk in the park. But life is like that too sometimes I guess. You see someone from the outside and really have no idea what's going on inside them. All hell could be about to break lose in there, but you wouldn't know it just by looking at them. Anyway...

Maybe I'll get to ask him about it someday, what it felt like just walking out of that god-forsaken place. He's sent me a couple of letters since. No return address or anything that might indicate where it came from of course, but the letters felt warm in my hands when I received them, so I can only assume some place tropical. He did mention an obscure beach in Puerto Rico once, but that would be a shot in the dark as to his current whereabouts. It doesn't matter anyway. Free anywhere is better than being in jail. At least I think so. Maybe I'll have an experience someday that teaches me otherwise, but until then, I'll take my chances it's true.

The end, sort of.