The smart people. Nice secure walls and dooors, and the plebs bringing our meals round three times a day. An hour for exercise and sunbathing every morning. Compared to Friday night at the Horse and Groom, that’s heaven. You meet Scotsmen in pubs, but you would never meet one in a jail full of smart people.
Apropos of funk’s story, I just remembered a guy walking up to me in a pub once and saying “didn’t I give you a slapping once in high school?” (5 years before) Then he said “sorry about that, I didn’t know any bettter at the time. Let me buy you a drink.”