Well, after a few shift changes and a little eavesdropping on some cop chatter, I finally figured out that it was about 9AM. Doing the math backward, I guess I must have arrived a few hours prior to the previous night's 11PM change, so my best guess was that I had been in that cell for about 13 or 14 hours. Long enough.
I started banging on the door of the cell, yelling all kinds of crap, trying to get someone's attention. You know, the worst thing to do when you are PC'ed is to become a little violent, because that is the first indication that you are not quite ready to be released. Unfortunately, I forgot that cardinal rule just long enough to piss someone off, because I was staring at that brown stain and doing push-ups for another 4 hours before the cell door opened. I tried to look as innocent as possible as I said 'hello' to the CO who entered. He said, 'you ready to get out of here?' Before I could say another word, he told me to grab my tray and follow him. That I did. Home free...or so I thought.
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