WWRGD?

Consuelo Sanchez, 55, whose apartment is adjacent to 6-F, complained about the smell for weeks before housing authority officials unlocked the door to discover the decomposed body on a sofa, the television still burbling away. The occupant, an 86-year-old retired transit worker, had died a month earlier of natural causes. 'I kept telling them, 'The man is dead,' ' Ms. Sanchez said. 'I was hoping I wasn't right.'

The medical examiner removed the bulk of the remains, but it was up to Ronald Gospodarski to take care of the rest, most of them viscous and indescribably malodorous. The man in 6-F had largely soaked into the sofa cushions as his body decayed, and his gastric acid had melted through the plastic covering on the upholstery.

'I don't care if you're black, white, rich or poor, whether you live in the projects or a penthouse, everyone smells the same when they die,' Mr. Gospodarski said as he scraped a caramel-colored goo off the floor of Apartment 6-F this spring.

So the next time you feel like telling someone about how horrible your job is, think about Ronald Gospodarski, and think about what he'd say if you told him about your company's new policy against making personal phone calls during company time.

I'm guessing it would be something along the lines of "Shut your fuckin' whine hole," but that's just a guess.