Every February-ish I’m listing to one song or another from Skinny Puppy on repeat. Like, Repeat. With a capital blowmyearsout. This year, of course, is no exception. Apart from the car I drive whilst listing to aforementioned song, and contemplating taking a wrong turn into a telephone pole.
Of course the live version video is better but this is here for clarity’s sake. Hah. Clarity.
Dear *******,
Thank you for your interest in the Executive Assistant – Chief Medical Office opportunity at ******** Hospitals; job number IRC122371. We have reviewed your resume and qualifications for this specific position / job number. While your skills and experience are impressive, we are pursuing applicants whose credentials more closely fit the requirements for this particular opportunity at ********** Hospitals.
Please note that if you have applied to other positions /job numbers from the specific one noted above, you may view your status at anytime by logging on to our website, as there could be other opportunities in which you are being considered.
Thank you again for your interest and we wish you success in your career endeavors.
Sincerely,
Recruitment Services
********* Hospitals
Dear Suckwad,
Thanks for being completely inept at carrying out your recruiting process. As a fellow recruiter, I can recognize a job well done. As a person who did do a recruiting job well, I can easily see when one falls short of well, adequate or even competent. In short you, sir, suck. Like, suck-shit-through-a crazy-straw suck.
It took you what now, 1 month and 1 day to simply tell me “no” after wasting my time -AGAIN- for 30 minutes on the phone? I mean hell, you didn’t even meet me face to face. An email takes 5 seconds for your assistant to cut/paste into being.
Also, thanks for being the human equivalent of a maxipad on the telephone. I’ve met typing paper with more of a presence than you.
I could give two shits about this job and find it HIGHlarious that you can’t recognize that someone with my experience would do anything but feign enthusiasm for this position. The recession has me by the balls and you think I aspire to be a glorified secretary?
Bitch, please.
*******
Dear CowWorker,
I’d say I’m really sorry you live a small life, but that would imply my considering you and your sad existence. My life is not small, I will not work here for 31 years and have this place as my sole source of entertainment, interaction or friends.
Have a wonderful evening with your Lean Cuisine dinner, your sham of a marriage and the children you squeezed out who don’t love you anymore. I have Things to Do, Places to Go, Drinks to Drink and the impending GRE on my plate.
In other words, kindly fuck off.
Sincerely yours,
******
Dear Customers,
Because I’m feeling magnanimous today, I will share with you the reason I don’t allow you to visibly anger me anymore with your stupid demands, rudeness, insipid helplessness and generaly cuntitude that comes with being middle-aged menopausal women.
When you start up with your nastiness, rudeness, and general mistreatment of me, the retail worker, I imagine stabbing you with my scissors, in the face, repeatedly. I picture picking up the largest piece of merchandise near me and swinging it like a baseball bat until it connects with that thick skull of yours. Home-run!
And to top it off, after I finish killing you in my head, I smile, look you straight in the eye and wish you a great afternoon, good luck or a wonderful evening. And I thank you for your patronage.
See, if you anger me and I break the mask I wear to get through the day, then you win. But when I continue about my task of helping you with the same level of neutral professionalism and polite faux-interest that I give my nonasshole customers, I win. And top it off, I’m entertained by scenes of your death.
Some days are harder than others, but I Will. Not. Let. You. Get. To. Me.
So doubly, I will continue to win because I laugh at you. You have no idea what I’m thinking and that is freedom.
Oh yeah, and I watch Dexter not for entertainment, but more of a “how-to.”
Thank you, come again,
*******
To adopt a more “positive outlook on life” (shut the fuck up), I’ve decided to share An Awesome Thing From This Week ™. This week:
My cowworker (you read right. It isn’t a typo. She’s a fucking cow.) wrote a poem about our place of employment and left it on the table in the breakroom.
Yep.
A poem.
A motherfucking poem. Jumpin’ jesus on a pogo stick. I can’t make this shit up.
And yep. My phone doesn’t have a camera so I have no way of getting it out into the world, where it ought to be, save for texting a line of it every day to my bff, with the hopes that she will transcribe in careful calligraphy strokes onto handmade parchment in purple ink crushed from the shells of rare snails.
Because the poem is seriously. Just. That. Good.
Stay tuned, faithful readers. All 5 of you.
PS: Also this week, a 9 year-old told me her dream in life is to sew clothes and give them away to poor people, and that this is a plan she and her friends discussed. OMG. Seriously, my heart grew like 100x like that scene from the Grinch Who Stole Christmas because this fucking kid made my day.
But whatevs, I know the 5 of you don’t read to hear what fucking makes me happy.
10. Add an extra 20 min to your lunch. Enlist the help of a nice intern to cover the phones.
9. Gossip profusely with the other serfs in the office because you ain’t in no hurry to get any work done and they’re very chatty since they know where you stand.
8. Enjoy an insanely amazing and decadent dinner at Babbo with someone you care about.
7. Ignore emails from your boss until he puts the director in copy and then reply only when no fewer than 2 hours have passed.
6. Take 4 hours to do a 20 minute project where you are expected to collect desk keys, re-label them, , put them in an envelope for each person whose desk they belong to, seal the envelope, have the person sign it and then create a filing system. Breakdown: 20 minutes for the actual project, 4 hours spent explaining to the office why you’re spending 4 hours doing a task around desk keys that no one even uses.
5. Refuse to train your replacement on the grounds that you have been deemed over and over “unqualified” and don’t feel comfortable.
4. Spend several days being shuttled back and forth between directors smiling as you walk down the hall, knowing you’re just running down the clock.
3. Make plans with various serfs to have dinner, drinks and revenge. Gossip some more.
2. Show up 25 minutes late every morning.
1. Laugh in your boss’ face when he threatens to fire you, after you’ve already given notice.
Dear ********,
This letter is to give two weeks’ notice of my intent to leave my position as Office Manager/HR Assistant with (Organization Which Doesn’t Deserve Your Generous Funds). I have decided to accept another position where I have a chance for professional growth and where my skills will be better utilized.
I’d like to wish you and your organization all the best in your future endeavors.
Sincerely,
ME
Dear Asshole,
I want to ask you a question that the late, great Bill McNeil once posed to me, when I was a wee tyke.
“Have you ever heard the expression, ‘When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, and then throw it in the face of the person who gave you the lemons until they give you the oranges you originally asked for?’”
I love Bill McNeil. Who doesn’t love Bill McNeil. He has gotten me through some tough times, that man. And now, he’ll get me through these next 2 weeks.
Anyway, I thought I should give you the heads up (pun intended) because I’m doing that right now. Only by “lemons” I mean you gave me hydrogen chloride and water. And by “lemonade” I mean hydrochloric acid.
Potato, potahtoe.
Whatevs,
*******
The person they hired- rather than “promoting me”- got fired.
You know. The one who was “more qualified” than me.
Because aforementioned person -wait for it –
COULDN’T DO THE FUCKING JOB.
and breathe in–
HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAAHAHAH
HAHAHAHHAAHHAAHAH HAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
breathe–
HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHNHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAH
HAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAAHHAAHHAHAH
Tonight, drinks are on me!
And now, back to your regularly scheduled ranting.
Thanx,
-The Mgmt
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