...did I say how much I liked the "Taco Mush" in prison? Not just liked but truly looked forward to it. I have already gone over the issues of the 15 minute window of eating opportunity we had in the mess hall, the CDC happiness rules...not to mention the issue of bacteria....
ok... so there I was... what choice would I make? Throw the food out and follow "the rules" or bring the food on home. I chose (as I would today) to bring the taco mush home, to my cell, for consumption sometime in the near future.

I went to the mess hall prepared to pilfer my supper. I brought with me a corner piece of a plastic garbage bag big enough to hold my taco treasure. In prison we learn to make do with what we have (which is not very much). For instance...a feminine pad with sticky edges become, a dishrag, a floor scrubber, a door jam not to mention a nifty picture hanger. I should write a book on the hundreds of ways to use the feminine pad. It think even the feminine product companies would be amazed. But I digress.

Now the trick is to scoop the mush into my bag while keeping an eye peeled for the ever watchful "happiness police". I would subtly look around...it did not matter that a hundred inmates watched me do this. CODE OF THE INMATES IS: Never, Never NEVER EVER snitch. Big huge rule. You could loose your life if you snitch on the wrong person. You get locked in isolation for your safety if you snitch.

Ok...so...no guard watching...quickly now...scoop it all up...Whoops....a guard.....Hide one arm hiding the loot under the table while casually eating the "green yucky jello with roach looking fruit" with the other hand...Try not to think about all of those scary lump like things floating around in the congealed jello-like substance. Hell, at least we were having something that remotely resembled desert!!! (Must have been a Sunday)

Mush in bag...Tie bag...Halfway home....Now..... society says it is not ok to be fat....slim is in...but not in prison...Fat is where it's at...Slim people do not carry taco mush back to their rooms for midnight snacks. The problem being, where on your body can you hide such a large lump of contraband? Guard's ever watchful eyes check out every lump and bump, natural and unnatural. They have contests to see who can bag the most contraband coming out of the lunch room. Women guards usually win because they can legally grope the most intimate regions where inmates hide the goodies. It becomes a game. Guards 2 Inmates 50. Just don't get caught.

One of the banes of my existence has been my issue of weight...I have learned to embrace my big beautiful woman status...in prison I learned to celebrate my weight....why? because my weight opened up hiding opportunities that might not have existed if I looked like Jennifer Aniston..,.I have a great place for contraband. Little did I know that weighing over 300lbs (20 years ago) and having a monster baby boy (11 lbs 4 1/2 oz, 24 inches long) would mold my body into a "food boosting machine". I had (still do) the perfect hidden compartment. Hell, I could boost my food and your food too! You see....I have the dreaded "tummy apron" born of excess weight being lost with the extra skin left over with nothing to do. This makes a great hiding place. Secret from the prying eyes of the curious guards. At last a sort of positive outcome for being obese.

Anyway....Let's see where I was...so here I am with a bag full of delicious taco mush. Now I must shove it down my pants in a room filled with at least 200 women and guards with sharp eyes. Did I mention the mush was hot...very hot. I slip it into it's nifty hiding spot and VIOLA --- YEOW....HOT, HOT ,VERY HOT....I cast furtive glances through my tears to see if anyone saw me. Of course most of the inmates saw me because criminals miss nothing. (They should all be guards...no one would get away with anything). But being the food criminals we are they all looked the other way or grinned and winked and me.

Snack in place...my table is being called to leave...walk casually TeDeTeDeDum...La...La....(God it's hot down there) "HEY YOU THERE!!!!" ( I think I peed my pants) I turn around and a guard is staring right at me. Thoughts of firing squads, lethal injections and gas chambers slam through my brain.... "Give it up Leyla" my mind tells me. "But I love taco mush" my other mind tells me. "Enough to die for?" "Well...... it's pretty good stuff".
What should I do???? Oh God Oh God....BLUFF!!!! You can only die once...Go for it....
"Yes sir?" I reply.
His eyes move down my body to my visible bulge bellow my belt line. (I am ashamed to say that the bulge looks there same whether there is a pound of taco mush secreted away there or not)

"What's in your pants?"

Now....if I were a man I would have taken that as an invitation. "Is that taco mush in your pants or are you happy to see me?" A smile flits across my face. Quickly I realize that this guard means business. My mind settles back on firing squads, lethal injections and gas chambers...Quickly now....

"Fat" I exclaim....looking at him in the eye, defiantly. "Fat" I say again...."Do you want to see it?" I reach for my waistband feeling beads of sweat building up around the hot bag of mush in my pants. Geez I hope this works, wondering if his bullets are hollow tipped.

His face takes on a variety of expressions as I gaze innocently into his dark brown eyes. He hesitates...in that moment I know how a poker player feels as he holds a 3, 1 seven, two 2's and a 10 and has $15,000 sitting in the pot.

He shakes his head and motions me to move on. Me and my taco mush join the line. MY SNACK IS SAVED...I have won the pot...

I have been a criminal one more time...how sad.

You know, I still find myself looking around for the plastic bag to sneak my goodies out after every meal...I'll have to watch that when a date takes me to dinner. It might be a dead give away that I have been behind the wall. "Hey is that a lobster tail or are you just happy to see me?"

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