One time I spent a week inside a little country jail, and I don’t guess I’ll ever live it down. I was sitting at a red light when these two men came and got me and said that I was speeding through their town. Well, they said, “Tomorrow morning, you can see the judge and go.” They let me call one person on the phone. I thought I’d be there overnight, so I just called my boss to tell him I’d be off but not for long.
Well, they motioned me inside a cell with seven other guys, one little barred-up window in the rear. My cellmate said if they had let me bring some money in, we all could send the jailer for some beer. Well, I had to pay him double ‘cause he was the man in charge, and the jailer’s job was not the best in town. Later on, his wife brought hot bologna, eggs, and gravy. The first day I was there, I turned it down.
Well, next morning they just let us sleep, but I was up real early, wondering when I’d get my release. Later on, we got more hot bologna, eggs, and gravy, and by now, I wasn’t quite so hard to please. Two days later, when I thought that I had been forgotten, the sheriff came in, chewing on a straw. He said, “Where is the guy that thinks that this is Indianapolis? I’d like to talk to him about the law.” Well, I told him who I was and told him I was working steady, and I really should be getting on my way. That part about me being who I was did not impress him. He said, “The judge will be here any day.”
The jailer had a wife, and, let me tell you, she was awful, but she brought that hot bologna every day, and after seven days, she got to looking so much better. I asked her if she’d like to run away. Well, next morning, that old judge took every nickel that I had, and he said, “Son, let this teach you not to race.” The jailer’s wife was smiling from the window as I left. In thirty minutes, I was out of state.
