To Tell the Truth, Part II

The best story behind The Seven Statements was, I thought, numero fivo - the buffalo with halitosis. It went like this:

I spent the summer of '96 working at Yellowstone National Park - at the Old Faithful Inn specifically. Since it was too far to commute (the closest WalMart was a 6-hour roundtrip), I stayed in the employee dormitories just behind the Inn.

Although the dorms weren't all that great, and the work wasn't all that stimulating (I cleaned rooms at the Inn), the best part of the summer was that I got two days off every week to wander around the park. Well, that, and that I got to borrow my friend's brand new Camaro on a couple of occasions, but that's another story.

This story involves buffalo, which are very large, dense creatures that exhibit all the wild and enthusiastic behavior we've come to expect from tree trunks. We (the park employees) were told repeatedly that buffalo were dangerous and could run up to 35 miles per hour. I never saw them do this. Although, I did observe a buffalo wander past about 10,000 people faithfully watching that geyser, turn around, pick a woman out of the crowd, and run her down, but that's another story.

The buffalo pretty much went wherever they wanted to, including roads, walkways, and the Lobby to the Old Faithful Inn (I am not making this up). One in particular took up residence around my dorm, although he never did actually make it in the building, thankfully.

The weather in Yellowstone was, like the buffalo, pretty boring. Every day except one (Aug 11, when it snowed), the nights were clear and cold, and the days were clear and hot. Consequently, I usually slept with my window open, to enjoy the refreshing night air.

Well, I'm sure you can imagine where this is headed. For reasons no longer clear to me, I oriented the head of the bed right next to the window. And, on the morning in question, I woke up feeling warm, humid air blowing on the back of my neck. This was odd, I noted, recalling that every morning up till this had been veritably chilly.

So, I slowly turned around and mere inches from my face was the lumbering head of an American Bison. Fortunately, there was a flimsy screen protecting my person from his large teeth. Needless to say, I didn't spend too long savoring the warmth of my bed that morning. Even though the alarm had yet to go off, and wouldn't for quite some time, I got up. Later that day, I re-oriented the bed away from the window.

There you have it. There are many other buffalo stories that could be told...but that's another story.