18 Sep 08
From Frankie (Letter 9)
Frankie - A Mexican Mafia hitman and leader of prison "booty bandits" who has been proposing our gay marriage ever since he saw me rubbing antifungal ointment on my bedsored buttocks at the Madison Street jail. He was there on murder charges he subsequently beat. He was recently moved from the super-maximum prison housing Arizona's death row to Tucson jail awaiting sentencing on charges he picked up in prison.
Frankie is writing from Pima County jail (not part of the Arizona Department of Corrections) in Tucson. Because he’s from a gang in Phoenix, he has to be careful of the rival gang members from Tucson who are running the Tucson jail.
Englandman My Friend,
I received your letter in which it’s always good to hear from you.
As for this case…yes! It has squeezed the vida loca out of me. But it’s not something you do overnight.
For example, I get here in this county jail and as I walk in a few guys come up to me and give me a hug and shake my hands. “How you doing OG?” That means Original Gangster.
Then you’ve got a couple of guys that are calling shots for the pod I’m in and looking at me like I owe them. So off the top, I already know these fools are trying to figure out who am I and what am I doing in their county if I’m from Phoenix.
I’ve been in this jail for thirteen days, and there’s been a lot of tension between us, but as usual these guys made one big mistake by not taking care of business from day one. I have now put together a four man crew, slowly but surely I’m building a wall around me. It’s no guarantee but it will help me to a certain extent.
Here we come out 3 times a day and at dinner while everyone is eating out in the run, I eat in my cell with the door open. I have been invited to sit and eat with the Mexican Warriors at their table, but no thanks, as last time I took a piece of steel in the back of my neck. At least in my cell I can see what’s coming my way and get myself ready for battle.
Frankie needs to stay a step ahead of the gang games at all times cuz it would be a sad story if you read Frankie Goes To Tucson And Gets Killed.
Englandman, would you cry for me?
As for the jail here, the food is top of the line stuff. Nothing like your friend Sheriff Joe Arpaio. Ha! Ha!
Every Friday they even give us a bag of popcorn and a R.C. Soda.
Now! The guards ain’t nuthin’ nice. They will rush you quick when they tell these guys to lock it down. The inmates will run and lock-down. One thing about here, the guards don’t play. So the best thing for that is to stay away as far as you can from the guards.
By the way, I have this white dude for my celly, goes by the name Popeye. Ain’t got no teeth and looks like Popeye. He’s forty eight years old and from Texas.
Englandman, good job on winning a prize for your shit slinger story. What’s the prize? My friend, I have the best shit slinger stories from SMU1 and SMU2 [two supermaximum-security prisons in Florence]. Did you know that I was thrown on before by those nasty motherfuckers? I will tell you some stories when I get back, okay?
My friend, I’m hoping and praying for the lesser time that I can get sentenced to. Like I said, I have had it with the vida loca. But it gets harder trying to leave it.
By the time you get this letter I should already be sentenced. I shall tell you how it all goes once I’m back at Florence cuz I honestly don’t have the stamps. I wrote one of your blog readers asking for a little help just to buy me writing stuff, and he blew me off. It’s okay, that’s life in this crazy world. Ain’t too many people that understand this life. They think we’re out to get them.
I have money at Florence. It’s that the money on my account didn’t follow me to this jail. Like I said, no biggie! Que no?
Anyway, did you send the cards to Noelle? Has she mentioned anything about writing me?
Englandman, I’m sending you my brother’s obituary. It’s for you to keep. I have one for myself.
As always, send my Love & Regards to your mom & dad and especially that beautiful sister of yours.
Much Love & Respect
P/S In six days I’ll know the outcome of my sentence
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Shaun P. Attwood