Hey, Here's a Surprise...There's Been Another Escape From the Country Club at Ft. Supply!

Well, it was a wild weekend out at the Woodward County Fairgrounds this weekend. As you may recall, Cousin Fred and I were exiled to the far northern edge of the parking lot after being denied entry as vendors to the actual Events Center. 

I didn’t mind so much, but Cousin Fred seemed to be carrying a chip (a Buffalo Chip perhaps?) on his shoulder about it.  We were out there with the guy from Oklahoma City who was dressed only in a miniskirt and packing an old rusty Colt Peacemaker. He was trying to unload the remainder of the miniskirts he had made in and shipped from Indonesia. 

Cousin Fred bought a few of them to give away as Christmas presents back in Arkansas.  He was hoping Mr. Crazy-Skirt would reciprocate and buy some (okay, many) bags of Buffalo Chips, but he told Cousin Fred he wouldn’t touch “those nasty things!”

I got back to our spot late Saturday morning after teaching my class on Criminal Enterprise 101 at the vo-tech that morning, which by the way I’ll never do again.  The only people who signed up were law enforcement here in the area.  They were taking notes and eyeballing me in a rather suspicious manner. 

Mr. Crazy-Skirt was getting antsy that no one was buying anything from us.  Finally, he draws his Peacemaker and starts making like Yosemite Sam, jumping from one leg to the other and shooting the gun into the air with calls of, “Yaaaahoo!  I’m the rootinest’ tootinest miniskirt wearinest’ and sellinest’ hombre this side of the Oklahoma River! Buy somethin’ dang it or I’ll fill you full of lead!”

I guess all the hollering and shooting was making Cousin Fred nervous he actually opened a bag of Buffalo Chips and started snacking. He promptly spit out what he tried to eat and looked at me.  “These suck,” he said.

Our new-found colleague’s antics didn’t attract much in the way of paying customers, though we did soon find ourselves surrounded by SWAT who dragged Crazy-Skirt off in a padded van.  They seized the remaining stock of his miniskirts as “evidence” and were eyeing Cousin Fred and me.

The senior SWAT guy came over and suggested it was time for us to depart the area, which we did…promptly. 

I’ve since learned that Mr. Crazy-Skirt has been charged with brandishing a weapon, discharge of a weapon in city limits, illegal possession of a firearm by a felon (tsk tsk), making terroristic threats, and indecent exposure (when they picked him up by his limbs to throw his barely clad ass in the van they discovered he wasn’t wearing underwear).  

As we were driving back to the compound and plotting what we would do with the remaining three gross of Buffalo Chips in the back, Cousin Fred was reading the weekend edition of the Woodward News. There was an article in there about yet another member of the William S. Key Country Club walking off the 18th hole without coming in for evening cocktails.    

Again?  Really?  Granted, I think it’s been awhile since the last member walked off the 18th hole.  Apparently, prison (oh sorry, Correctional Center – they’re sensitive about that) officials prefer the term walk-off to escape.  That seems kind of dumb if you ask me. 

A walk-off seems to imply that everyone stood waving goodbye as the escapee…er, walkee…er, walker…oh to hell with it, escapee disappears over the horizon.  Using the term escape seems to imply that there is something more sinister afoot and that the Head Grounds Keeper has a huge effort underway to track down the escapee. 

This coming on the heels of an article on the NewsOK.com site that Oklahoma’s private prisons (which I believe the WSK Country Club falls under) are costing taxpayers nearly $92.2 million a year.  $92.2 million and they can’t keep the country club membership on the grounds?  Oh, forgot, there aren’t any locks on the doors. 

In the end, what are you going to do?  State operated facilities cost nearly twice as much to run. 
So, maybe with more walk-offs walking off, that will reduce the overall cost, but only if they walk to Texas or Kansas or someplace and become someone else’s problem. 

But, I digress.

Cousin Fred was reading the article with interest and taking notes regarding the member’s tatts and vital stats.  I knew where this was headed.  I told him firmly that we were NOT going to become bounty hunters.  I said that I was pretty certain there is no bounty on walk-offs.

And then I started thinking that if no one at Ft. Supply is actually watching the country club membership, what’s to keep all of them from walking away.  Could you imagine being a guard (sorry, greens keeper) there and calling everyone in for a head count and there are no heads to count?  Guess that’s more bologna sandwiches for the staff!

Me thinks they need to put a fence up around the place, for crying out loud.  I’m betting the cost would be a hell of a lot less than $92 million and make those of us who are not confined feel a lot safer.