Today at work, a nebbishy old guy came in, a short unassuming fellow who looked like he was somebody's grampa. He also
stunk of gin at 11 am. He sold us some books, we rejected others. When we do that, you have the option of taking them back or leaving them for the dollar rack. he left them. Among them was a tiny tome entitled "State Of new York Department Of Corrections-Standards Of Inmate Behavior."
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From the first page, a 'I have recieved this, sign here' form, it looks like something that's handed out to prisoners. This one was unsigned, so I don't know where he got it. Among the things I learned: Self-mutilation is against regulations and sunglasses can only be worn outdoors. Just so you know.