Commissary Day in Prison: Anticipation, Power, and Survival

Chiron Francis describes how commissary day inside prison becomes a highly anticipated event, revealing how hope, tension, and survival are shaped around access to commissary.

Commissary day in Texas prison is the equivalent of every holiday and birthday. This day is highly anticipated and revered as a day of jubilation. Just like a holiday or birthday, commissary day comes with strife and great cost.

According to the commissary administration, there is an organized system of operating store. They claim store day is structured so everyone eligible can go to commissary at least twice a month.

Uncertainty and Anxiety Leading Up to Commissary

The dates selected to make store aren’t certain—especially on a 2,000-plus-man prison unit. On these types of units, commissary day is chaotic and stressful, kind of like a Black Friday sale. Inmates eagerly wait for the commissary window to open.

Each inmate has an idea of when their block will go to store, but like all ideas, change is a possibility. Anxiety builds in the wait. Days in advance, inmates coordinate deposits with their outside assistance. They must secure money in their accounts. Unlike the world beyond the walls, you only get one opportunity to make store. When your hour draws near, you better be ready.

Control and Indifference Around Commissary Operations

Another deciding factor in when store will commence depends on the personnel who work there. Store workers consist of correctional officers and inmates. The inmate is expendable. The officers dress in civilian clothes and act with indifference. They could care less whether store opens or not. Most of them are not inmate-friendly. Only after the warden intervenes does the store function correctly. Once the window opens, it’s every man for himself.

Guards on the block are responsible for the order of how inmates line up for store. Most of them don’t have order or control about themselves. Controlling offenders’ behavior on commissary day is, as they say, “above their pay grade.”

Lines, Hustlers, and Survival Tactics

This lack of concern leaves the inmate on their own. Once an inmate knows their block is going to store, they will start forming queues in the day room—the designated waiting area for all off-the-block activities.

Some inmates arrive three hours in advance to start a line. They sit and stand as close as they can to the entrance and exit gate. This is where the block guard will come and collect inmate ID cards.

The stronger inmates show up last and are usually the first to get called. Hustler inmates don’t wait in queues; they have contacts working in commissary. While everyone is piled up, fidgeting and biting their fingernails in anticipation, the hustlers stroll in, their large white mesh bags filled to capacity. A satisfactory and prideful look masks their faces.

The Rush When Commissary Is Announced

Every time the guard nears the gate, everyone shuffles on edge. Someone will shout, “Here she comes!” but more times than not, the guard’s announcement is a surprise: “Commissary!”

Everyone in the day room races toward the gate, ID cards held high in the congested air. Whatever line was started quickly dissolves in the confusion. Short men “get mossed.” Weak men are elbowed. Everyone else is groped. By this point, everyone is annoyed. Harsh words and threats are thrown around. Luckily, no fights break out; any such violence would scrub store day.

The guard only takes 20 cards. The so-called lucky person who gave his card first is the last to make his purchase, because his ID is on the bottom, the others stacked on top of it.

Authority and Compliance

The store guard radios the block guard: “Send 20!” The block guard seizes the moment to exert their authoritative power. They call the first 20 out of the day room by name. The men are instructed to line up in pairs and keep quiet. The guard walks down the line, inspecting the formation. She savors the moment, knowing commissary day is the only time she’ll get this kind of cooperation. Failure to comply can result in cancellation. The rule is: Commissary day is a privilege, not an obligation.

The Emotional Reward of Commissary

The joy inmates feel is uncontrollable. It stems from the idea of eating something other than prison food—and the process of preparing a meal for yourself.

While in line, inmates begin organizing ingredients for the foods they want to prepare. Just the thought of purchasing something is thrilling. It’s a natural human response to become excited when buying something.

Inmates briskly walk to the commissary window. Dignity strengthens their strides. For once, the horrible prison experience is forgotten. It’s replaced with the idea of going shopping.

Humiliation and Gratitude at the Commissary Window

At the window, the fervor is amplified. The rules enforced on the block apply in the hallway. Still, some inmates talk under their breaths when the guards aren’t looking. Most are busy adding and subtracting items on their order list. After seeing the colorful contents of someone else’s bag, it dawns on them they need something more.

Some of the fun is diminished by the cashier. It’s always a correctional officer who has a grudge. They express their disgust by flinging purchased goods out the window. Inmates must position themselves and their bags beneath the slot so the flying products can bounce off their bodies and into the bag below.

Disheartening to some, ignored by most. Humiliation is vanquished by the love an inmate feels as their bags fill with zoom-zooms and wham-whams. He knows there are people in the outside world making sacrifices for him by sending money. It is a small, insignificant victory—one that’s eventually flushed after digestion.

When Commissary Is Missed

Those who don’t make store detest commissary day. It’s a sad and depressing day for us. Especially in a dormitory-style prison, one big cell with 56 bunks of men. In this setting, it’s impossible to avoid the smells of cooked food. The sights and sounds of packaged items being passed around and bartered is crushing. The festive atmosphere reeks of enjoyment.

While others return with smiles and goodies, we the less fortunate wallow and sink into our bunks—sleeping away the time until the nostalgia ends.

Enjoy this story? Don’t miss Inside the Prison Economy: Barter Systems, Commissary, and the Value of Survival

The post Commissary Day in Prison: Anticipation, Power, and Survival first appeared on Prison Writers.