Last night I had the extreme joy of interviewing clients in the county jail. It is part of the job and it happens every (well, almost every) Tuesday.
And as I am sitting waiting to be allowed into the sanctum sanctorum of the interview rooms (this particular lobby area had furniture which is a rarity) I began contemplating the idea that I have contemplated in this position before.
Like a jail.
Like a prison.
Like any house of incarceration.
It is the same in all of them.
I have hypothesized that the particular smell is added to the concrete in the construction process. Like an essential oil.
I am quite sure there is a Federal law that mandates the inclusion of this smell in the construction material.
But I sit waiting for an hour contemplating this important issue until my clients are located, the linen is distributed to all the inmates in this particular wing, and the staff remembers that I am sitting in the lobby.
I am the one on the security camera screen that has been in the same chair for the last hour. Remember me?
I have read the files three times. Filled out all of the paperwork for the interview and reviewed it three or four times.
I would read a book but I can't bring such an item into the jail. Same with a portable phone.
So I sit and hypothesize on the overwhelming smell.
I can't wait to take a shower.