Petty, Petty, Petty. One of the less civilized inmates took it upon himself to tear apart the bedding and other possessions of the inmate that bunks under me. The perpetrator even left a sheet of paper on his locker saying that the shakedown had been conducted by Sergeant Cupcake.

While one might look on this as a good natured joke, any prison official might have walked by and decided that this was a problem and needed to be dealt with. The general rule in prison is that you never touch another inmate's property or area no matter how funny you think it may be.

I work very hard at not attracting any attention to my area. I had initially told this inmate when he moved in that as long as he kept quiet and stayed to himself, he would be fine. He was moved from his previous location because of constant harassment from the other inmates directly around him.

Since he has managed to again attract inmates that like to harass him, I had told him that it was time for him to move on. He is too naive to understand that the same inmate that he thinks is his 'friend' is the one now harassing him.

The inmate that is doing the harassing considers himself a 'gangster.' When he heard I was asking his play toy to move, he turned around and threatened me for picking on my bunkie. He then told me that if I told my bunkie he had to move again, he, the 'gangster', would step in and take care of things.

The problem here is that if any physical trouble were to occur, both the gangster and myself would end up going to the disciplinary housing unit.

To illustrate his power, I came back from chow the other night to find my mattress, blankets and sheets all on the floor. Not satisfied with just making a mess, he stole the 36 empty soda cans that are returned to commissary for a five cent a can refund. He further told me that if I had a problem, maybe I should be the one to move.

Here is the problem with that. Obviously, it is clear to anyone reading this that I am in prison. As such I have minimal freedom to make even the most mundane decisions. One such decision is who I might share a cube or cell with. Imagine the logistical nightmare if any inmate could ask to change his cell or bed at any time.

So if I needed to change and had to explain why, the only plausible reason would be because this gangster was threatening me. Then he could end up going to the disciplinary housing and who knows who I might piss off by doing that. I know that, he knows that, to some extent, and does not really want me to move.

He is only a gangster as long as he can resort to using every four letter word that the FCC would not allow and lift his own self worth up while denigrating others.  ¶ 9:26 AM