Personal Hygiene Please.

As a general rule I don't like peple who talk about 'The Great Unwashed' and anyway not many do these days, but I do seem to have had a few of TGUnW in the shop recently. The rain and chill must have brought them in. They aren't the down-and-outs, oh no. They include an elderly and rather leery old chap who takes pains to tell me every time he comes in of his previous career in banking (not something to shout about thse days one would have thought!) He name-drops heavily, names of individuals I'm supposed to recognise and impressive organisations he's had dealings with, but as he now lives on four pensions he can't it seems afford to buy my whole stock to add to his already considerable library although he would like to do so - blah blah ... Oh Yeah? I want to feel sorry for him because he is/was obviously intelligent and probably raised properly and is undoubted lonely, but I would prefer to be sorry for him at a greater distance - my little shop just gets full of that sour smell unwashed clothes have about them, and other body odours I'd rather not have to think about. He also does that thing with his tongue that Nick Griffin did on Question Time, flicking it in and out - it really revolts me. (I noticed that David Tennant did it when he played Bartimious Crouch Junior in 'The Goblet of Fire.' It was a masterstroke - made him very repulsive and I didn't think David T COULD ever be repulsive to me.)

There used to be a sweet old lady visit at least once a fortnight from the neighbouring town. She looked as if she didn't have two halfpennies to rub together but always spent £20 or so on books she 'couldn't resist.' I loved her for that as much as her evident gentleness and, again, intelligence, good manners etc. etc. Unfortunately she too smelled terrible and I used to writhe in embarassment if other customers came in at the same time or soon after her. It shames me to feel this way - I'm not very accepting of folk, but I know I was always friendly toward her whereas I keep my responses to this old man rather curt and distant and my eyes on my crossword and/or novel as much as possble.

The old lady hasn't been in for over a year and Chloe and I often speak about her, wondering where she is. Probably in a dreadful Home where she won't have access to any of her beloved books. Or she could be dead I suppose. I would like to know about her but don't have the first idea where to start.