Where’s the mint on his jail cell pillow?

Former Orange County Assistant Sheriff George Jaramillo is jail-shopping. The former No. 2 man in the department is about to become the newest fish in somebody’s tank, and he’d much rather pay the $75 a night for a city jail bunk than do his eight months or so in a county jail somewhere.

You meet such a higher class of people in city jail, don’t you know?

Prosecutors haven’t objected to Jaramillo’s request, but they have objected to him getting a laptop and cellphone, which apparently is a routine privilege in at least some pay-to-stay city jails.

But even if Jaramillo loses that battle, life in a city jail beats the heck out of doing your time in county. The Times reported last week that an inmate in the Fullerton City Jail finished a screenplay during his stretch.

If he gets lucky, here’s how check-in might go for Jaramillo, who got a year’s sentence for lying to a grand jury and improper use of a department helicopter:

Jaramillo (ringing a bell): Uh, excuse me.

Jailer (emerges from back room). Yes, sir, how can I provide you with excellent service today?

Jaramillo: I’m here to get a cell.

Jailer: Could I get your name, sir?

Jaramillo: George Jaramillo.

Jailer: And how long will you be staying with us, Mr. Jaramillo?

Jaramillo: If everything goes right, 243 days.

Jailer: Very fine, sir. Before I show you to your quarters, could I ask who recommended us to you?

Jaramillo: Yeah, a judge.

Jailer: Excellent, sir. As he may have told you, we’re state-of-the-art here, or at least as much as one could hope when sharing a toilet in an 8-by-12-foot room.

Jaramillo: You mean I’ve got a cellie?

Jailer: We refer to them as guests, sir. And, yes, we do insist on double occupancy. But if that’s a concern to you, let me assure you that we match our guests through a very sophisticated computer system. Perhaps you’ve heard of match.con?

Jaramillo: Not really, but I’ll take your word for it. What’s for dinner tonight? It’s 5 o’clock and I’m already starving.

Jailer: Understood, sir. We’ll ask you to fill out some paperwork for us, then we’ll find some fresh linens and get you set up for your body inspection and cavity search. That should take us right up to dinner. Tonight we’re offering Alaskan King salmon with baby carrots and garlic mashed potatoes.

Jaramillo: Could I substitute asparagus for the baby carrots?

Jailer: Absolutely, sir. Let me make a note of that. And we have a lovely creme brulee for dessert.

Jaramillo: Sounds OK. What’s the noise like? I’m a pretty light sleeper.

Jailer: Unfortunately, not all our guests pay, so we do have occasional problems with our less distinguished clientele. For the most part, we’re talking about the drunks, so somewhere around 2 a.m. you might hear a little commotion.

Jaramillo: Such as?

Jailer: Oh, repeated vomiting and loud, guttural sounds. And what you might recognize as the sound of fistfights. And perhaps what will come across to you as mindless squalling and profanity-ridden laments with strong sexual overtones.

Jaramillo: I’m paying $75 a night and I have to put up with that?

Jailer: Sorry, sir. In a small facility like this, we just can’t soundproof like we’d like. We’ve tried everything we can think of, but the fact is there’s just no way to dilute the sound of 15 guys splattering their guts on a concrete floor.

Jaramillo: No, I suppose not. Maybe it’ll be like traffic noise -- in time you get used to it and sleep right through it.

Jailer: That’s the proper attitude, sir. You might want to use that time to do some reading or, perhaps, catch up on correspondence. There is, of course, a nightlight over your bed.

Jaramillo: I probably shouldn’t complain. Imagine spending eight months in county.

Jailer: I’d rather not, sir.

Jaramillo: Tell me the truth, does the time go fast in here?

Jailer: It can. You’ll have a TV in the cell and some movie opportunities. You’ll get outside for a time during the day when visitors come. I think you’ll be very happy, sir.

Jaramillo: Do you think people should get better treatment, because they can afford to pay?

Jailer: Not for me to say, sir.

Jaramillo (chuckling): Well, don’t do the crime if you can’t pay for the time, eh?

Jailer: Very good, sir. I hadn’t heard that one before.

Jaramillo: This all sounds doable, I must say. Anything else?

Jailer: Just one thing, sir. Will you be needing a shower cap?

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. He can be reached at (714) 966-7821 or at dana.parsons@latimes.com. An archive of his recent columns is at www.latimes.com/parsons.