What would offend the olfactory nerves of a public defender? "Ryan" gets to find out at a city not far away. Here's his report (reposted from Richochet.com).
I stepped into the elevator in my building this afternoon and had to breathe slowly. It brought me back to the old bowling alley; cigarette butts, leftover something, spilled beer. Those smells don't bother me too much, but when you add in a mix of body odor, gingivitis, and an overdose of cheap perfume, I start to have a negative sensory overload. I had three floors to guess the mixture of clients...
The woman in her Betty Boop fleece pants with the frayed bottoms - they looked just fine when she held them up to her waist at the store, but she was wearing heels at the time so they typically find themselves a few inches below her flip-flops at home. Her hair is a stringy blond and her face is gaunt. She walks with exaggerated movements, almost as if there is some sort of opiate coursing through her veins, seeming to reduce the force of gravity just a bit. If she goes for more than four hours without a fix, she becomes violently ill. We will talk all about her case in my office and she'll be ready to resolve, but when we get into the courtroom, it will be the same thing as last time and every time - not today! My cats; my rent; my... - until one day she doesn't show up at all and gets picked up on a warrant.
Next to her sits a little gang banger, the source of that "vat o' perfume" smell; flat billed baseball cap from some team with bright red colors. He can't even name the sport, but I comment anyway just because it gives me an inward chuckle: boy, that Votto sure is on fire. Those two grand-slams really killed my fantasy team this week! He just stares at me through bloodshot eyes and pulls out the medical marijuana card that he got for his early-onset low back pain. That's great, bud, but I don't see anywhere on this card where it says you can take off running for three blocks before finally stopping to pull the taser prongs out of your thigh.