November 3, 2009
Dear Prospective Employer,
Thank you for the opportunity for me to come in and review the requirements needed to apply for your job. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to see the inner workings of your company and for exposing the faulty foundation that is known as your Human Resources Department. Thank you for showing your true colors and true ideals, and not your so-called virtues and accurate façade of elevated self-perception.
I applaud you in not giving me the job that I so wholly qualified for, and I thank you for not appreciating the vigor, sense and passion that is needed to do the job as it needs to be done correctly. Thank you for keeping me from the insidious backbiting and inner turmoil that is presented at a Friday morning meeting that requires cheerleading and trivial incentives to help me meet the quota that will require selling my fresh soul for that $15 per hour, just to make the Department Head look viable and successful.
How dare you, Spiteful and soulless entity, try and take away a chance for an extraordinary individual such as I to be true to myself in preserving the option to serve others that deserve my unhindered power and vivacity to work hard, my gusto and punch in seeing the world come to a balance, and to create results of a different matter, a matter of greater importance! How dare you remove a sliver of possible providence to one who needs a course correction that only I can steer them toward?
How dare you, mischievous sprite, try and squeeze my rare intellect into the glass box of darkness and squiggly arrows, pointing to a land of retirement, 401(k), and have me cling to a hope that my life will mean more when I’m 70 than it does to this day. How dare you pull the wool over mine eyes so that I may not feel the work I’ve been made to endure, to earn an honest wage, that I would be trapped by a false sense and purpose in achieving the intangible feelings the Almighty dollar so pertinently exudes as it eats away at one’s destiny come Friday morning, only to be filled with a monstrous remorse and the feeling of a nutrition-starved stomach the following Monday, as you would have me creep in like a caffeine-imbibing drone and nicotine-dependent zombie.
You shall not touch me again, dastardly fiend! I will prove you herewith, that only under my circumstances will we again meet at that stone table to discuss the issues and affairs I see fit to navigate with your help. Until then, begone immoral and shameful pretender! Off with you, false prophet!
Sincerely,
Yours Truly
