Smell Ya Later

Currently reading: "A Journal for Jordan" by Dana Canedy

I know I am going to hell. I mean, I already knew that, but it was pretty much written in stone today when I caught myself being annoyed by a patron in a wheelchair. There is some sort of unwritten rule about being nice and non-judgemental about people in wheelchairs, but sometimes, you just can't help it. Let me rephrase that: I can't help it. I don't really know what you can do.
A woman came in right when we opened and she was in a motorized wheelchair scooter thing, and she came up to the desk needing books on photography, among other topics. As I went to help her, I saw she had obviously been eating recently in her scoot-chair because there was lettuce, onions, cheese, bread crumbs, and other things all over her and in the bottom of her scoot-chair near her feet. I get that she must have trouble because she is in her chair, but I now have trouble because her salad is falling all over the library floor. Should I have been picking up her lettuce? I left it. She also had a million things she wanted and then she didn't have room for the books, so I had to put them on the bottom of her scoot-chair. I sort of brushed some of the produce aside to stack the books by her feet.
Oddly, since she was covered in her lunch, the salad scoot-chair lady didn't smell like onions or cheese or anything; however, there was a man in today that smelled like worms, as well as a man who smelled like bacon. We also have a pepper patron who seriously STRONGLY smells like pepper and we know when she is in the library because we all need to sneeze.
The summer (as you can imagine) is the worst time to have a nose in the library. It can smell like the worst locker room mixed with rotting perfume samples from our magazine storage room. Super funk, and not in The Commodores sort of way.