Paris Hilton Gives New Meaning to Cell Phone

Posted by Maggie Van Ostrand (maggie@filmschoolrejects.com) on May 7, 2007

Poor Paris. She was really shook up on Friday when Judge Michael T. Sauer sentenced her to 45 days in county jail for violating her probation and “alcohol-related reckless driving.” She tearfully told the paps “I don’t deserve this.” Apparently, she thinks she’s different. Maybe she is. Maybe she won’t have to go to a commoner’s jail.

No longer does the word “jail” carry the stigma it once did, evoking images of delinquent nobodies crowded into a filthy cell, nasty words written on cruddy walls, and rusty toilets that flush upward. You just cannot imagine popular Paris sleeping on a gnarly, greasy mattress so old it dates back to Al Capone. Anyway, Paris Hilton should not be forced to sleep on any mattress that’s thinner than she is.

It’s safe to say that if her lawyer, Howard Weitzman, can’t get her out of doing time by appealing to another judge and taking a chance that he’s star-struck, she’ll doubtless spend her 45 days in one of the newly announced five-star jails in California. That’s not a joke.

Let’s talk about the new jail, just meant for the likes of Paris, party girl Lindsay, potty mouthed Mel and anyone rich enough to be considered. For offenders whose crimes are not lethal and who have the big bucks (cash no checks), there are no fewer than a dozen city jails spread across the state of California which offer paid upgrades. That’s okay, as long as inmates don’t get special treatment, right?

These are currently known as “self-pay” jails, which are as exclusive as those velvet-roped private nightclubs you can’t get into unless you know the guy at the door with folded arms who looks like Mike Tyson only with teeth. Just to apply for admission to one of these classy joints and if the judge doesn’t think you’re arrogant (who, me?) the guys who run these places can bounce anyone they want to, or just say no. Can you picture it? A jail with bouncers.

This California ritzy jail story even hit the New York Times. Nicole Brockett, 22, was recently booked into one of the jails [in California] … and paid $82 a day to complete a 21-day sentence for a drunken driving conviction.

“It’s clean here,” she said, perched on a couch in a jail day room. “It’s safe and everyone here is really nice. I haven’t had a problem with any of the other girls. They give me shampoo.” Someone should tell her that it’s safe because she’s not out on the streets driving.

For between $75 to $127 per day, inmates are not referred by the low-class word, inmates, but instead are called “clients.” No “Bubba” for these big spenders.

For their dough, “clients” are permitted to bring in an iPod or a computer to work or frolic on in their spare time. They are given a cell with an ordinary door — no bars for these special clients — and they don’t have to hang with common prisoners, you know, creeps with stringy hair and an attitude. We certainly don’t want our Paris fraternizing with such low-lifes.

Clients might even be granted work furloughs, meaning they only have to come back to the jail (or perhaps it should be known as a hotel) at night. Upon returning, they might be strip searched for contraband but that act doesn’t have to be unpleasant, at least not compared with getting frisked at the airport every time you leave town.

According to the NY Times article, “The pay-to-stay programs have existed for years, but recently attracted some attention when prosecutors balked at a jail in Fullerton [California] that they said would offer computer and cellphone [sic] use to George Jaramillo, a former Orange County assistant sheriff who pleaded no contest to perjury and misuse of public funds, including the unauthorized use of a county helicopter. Mr. Jaramillo was booked into the self-pay program in Montebello, near Los Angeles, instead.

“’We certainly didn’t envision a jail with cellphone and laptop capabilities where his family could bring him three hot meals,’ said Susan Kang Schroeder, the public affairs counsel for the Orange County district attorney. ‘We felt that the use of the computer was part of the instrumentality of his crime, and that is another reason we objected to that.’ A spokesman for the Fullerton jail said cellphones but not laptops were allowed.” Well that’s okay then.

Ken Kerle, managing editor of American Jail Association, has authored two books about jails. He told the NY Times, “I have never run into this. But the rest of the country doesn’t have Hollywood either. Most of the people who go to jail are economically disadvantaged, often mentally ill, with alcohol and drug problems and are functionally illiterate. They don’t have $80 a day for jail.”
Actually, Hollywood has a whole lot of mentally ill people with alcohol and drug problems who aren’t in jail. That’s what gutters are for.

Would you believe the California jails actually market themselves like big companies? They won’t have to bother with marketing if Paris joins their ranks. Her P.R. firm can handle everything. Oh that’s right, her publicist Elliot Mintz quit last Friday when Paris tried to blame the incident on him. I suppose he poured the booze down her totally innocent throat.

The typical pay-to-stay client is a man in his late 30s who has been convicted of driving while intoxicated and sentenced to a month or two in jail. And of course, Paris.

Perhaps Paris would be better off if she were sentenced to rehab, which is much fancier than the fanciest of California jails. They do cost a great deal more but so what? Celebs can afford it. And for the big bucks, they get special treatment, like fuzzy terry cloth robes to wear at the swimming pool, permission to have visitors who are not searched for contraband, and their own personal sheets and comfy quilts. Not like the upper-class jail which only issues a pink bottle of moisturizer and a book.

Young Ms. Brockett, who normally works as a bartender in Los Angeles, was perhaps prophetic when she told the NY Times: “I am aware that this is considered to be a five-star Hilton.”

Read more articles by Maggie Van Ostrand