The Troll Story

Sunday morning and the whole family headed off for our semi-traditional breakfast at the Broken Yolk. After the obligatory stop at Starbucks in Davis, we were headed up College Ave. to the diner when we heard the familiar voice of Michael echoing off the houses.

Michael is also a fixture at the Broken Yolk and the adjacent Powderhouse Park. He is a large and loud man, and unfortunately both partially deaf and mentally retarded. Because of this, his is difficult to understand, persistant, at times belligerant, and frankly a bit frightening. The staff at the 'Yolk are very good with him, treating with Michael fairly but firmly, making sure other patrons have their personal space.

This morning was a bit different. Several blocks before the diner, Michael had (for lack of a better term) cornered a new dad and his 2-year old daughter on their morning walk. It probably started by Michael trying to bum a cigarette or just strike up a conversation, but clearly Dad was not able to handle the situation with the grace and skill of the waitresses at the 'Yolk (not surprisingly).

Michael does not understand personal space and kept trying to move closer to Dad. Dad held is daughter in his arms and kept the stroller between him and Michael. Everytime Dad said "No thank you" or "OK, I have to leave now" or some other attempt to disengage, Michael would come back at him again. Michael may have poor impulse control an social skills, but he is not stupid; he knows when he is being blown off, and was obviously frustrated and angry. Other pedestrians crossed the street away from the scene to they wouldn't get involved. This was clearly a bad situation that was not getting any better.

Christopher had May strapped to his chest, so he stayed on the far side of the street. Manda went ahead and crossed to Michael and Dad. Manda was able to interpose herself between Dad and Michael, allowing Dad and daughter enough space to cross the street and disengage from the situation. Manda was then able to tell Michael, politely, that he needed to go now.

Dad and daughter (Anika as we soon discovered) were a littel shaken, but Anika never did cry. Maybe years from now, she will write a story about how, when a troll blocks your way, the best tool is direct politeness.