I am a traveling worker who wanders around the United States setting up shop in various National Parks. If it matters, I’m a fit 29 year old that has often been compared to David Tennant’s Tenth Doctor when clean cut, and Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine when in Viking mode. This last season (March to November) I was in Yellowstone, and ended up on several sexual adventures. This is one of those stories.
Waiting outside the post office to pick up my mail, I was absently petting one of the local cats and contemplating what I had just done. After a relationship of five years I had broken up with my girlfriend, and though it was a relief I was also reeling. I just wanted to gather up my junk mail and go back to my quarters in lake village.
“The owner must be an idiot,” I heard a woman with a Scandinavian accent mutter as she joined me in waiting for the post office to open, “I see bald eagles swoop over this place every day. Bye bye poo-ssie…”