May 25, 2026 · 36 min · 22 segments
THE BLURB: One thing about prison, there are rules upon rules. Upon rules. In this episode, John realizes that he's going to have to live by his own rules in order to survive. Those rules will be…
John KiriakouHostEvery prisoner within one week of arrival at Loretto must find a job.
It's one of the rules.
The thing is, you see, there are four times as many prisoners as there are jobs.
So it's a really dumb rule, and it's why most jobs at Loretto are either make work or no work.
We'll be telling a story about corruption inside the prison system this season, so please make note, this kind of bullshit is baked into the architecture.
It may not have been created out of corruption, but it breeds corruption.
Lots of prisoners become standby orderlies, or technically they're on call in case of some sort of janitorial emergency, whatever that is.
They make 60 cents a month for doing literally nothing.
Just as well, I doubt any of them know much about, let's say, plumbing.
The worst possible jobs, though, are in food service.
That said, prisoners who work in the kitchen get larger portions, and they can steal whatever they want.
Landscaping and snow removal are also horrible jobs.
The work call when it's snowing is 4:00 AM.
For a very brief moment, my idealism got the best of me.
I volunteered to be a GED tutor.
I figured I could genuinely help someone learn to read and graduate with a high school equivalency.
My prison counselor slapped that down immediately.
His exact words to me were, "If I wanted you to teach a fucking class, I would have asked you to teach a fucking class." He shouted that right at my face, so point taken.
Henceforth, I would resist all urges to help these crooked cops run their fucking prison.
I'd help prisoners with their legal work, but that would be just between us prisoners.
As for prison work, now that I truly understood the rule, I would do as little as humanly possible.
My first job was in the library, which happened to be one of the very few air-conditioned rooms in the entire prison.
I reported to work at 7:30 AM.
For $16 a month, which was far better pay than being an orderly, I would wipe down the library's tables and chairs and dust and vacuum.
Then I would just sit there, doing pretty much nothing until 10:30 AM, which was the end of my workday.
Every prisoner within one week of arrival at Loretto must find a job.
It's one of the rules.
The thing is, you see, there are four times as many prisoners as there are jobs.
So it's a really dumb rule, and it's why most jobs at Loretto are either make work or no work.
We'll be telling a story about corruption inside the prison system this season, so please make note, this kind of bullshit is baked into the architecture.
It may not have been created out of corruption, but it breeds corruption.
Lots of prisoners become standby orderlies, or technically they're on call in case of some sort of janitorial emergency, whatever that is.
They make 60 cents a month for doing literally nothing.
Just as well, I doubt any of them know much about, let's say, plumbing.
The worst possible jobs, though, are in food service.
That said, prisoners who work in the kitchen get larger portions, and they can steal whatever they want.
Landscaping and snow removal are also horrible jobs.
The work call when it's snowing is 4:00 AM.
For a very brief moment, my idealism got the best of me.
I volunteered to be a GED tutor.
I figured I could genuinely help someone learn to read and graduate with a high school equivalency.
My prison counselor slapped that down immediately.
His exact words to me were, "If I wanted you to teach a fucking class, I would have asked you to teach a fucking class." He shouted that right at my face, so point taken.
Henceforth, I would resist all urges to help these crooked cops run their fucking prison.
I'd help prisoners with their legal work, but that would be just between us prisoners.
As for prison work, now that I truly understood the rule, I would do as little as humanly possible.
My first job was in the library, which happened to be one of the very few air-conditioned rooms in the entire prison.
I reported to work at 7:30 AM.
For $16 a month, which was far better pay than being an orderly, I would wipe down the library's tables and chairs and dust and vacuum.
Then I would just sit there, doing pretty much nothing until 10:30 AM, which was the end of my workday.
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