Getting a baby past security to visit with his mother ended up being harder than I thought it would. First of all, the warden required a lot of paperwork, all of which I had in my car, luckily, and once we were finally inside, the guards tossed a barrage of questions my way.
We finally got through after I started threatening to hire a lawyer and sue the jail to filth for having unlivable sanitary conditions. I was just bluffing, but the guards perked right up and decided that the questions had culminated. Little Mason and I were taken to a room that left a lot to be desired and I silently wondered how in the world they kept people here. Compared to the interrogation cell Jason and I would speak in, this was the equivalent of a bodega bathroom.
