Posts Tagged ‘worker’

Query

August 25, 2009

 

Dear ********, 

Why are you such an asshole? Can you explain that to me, typed, double-spaced and in 200 words or less, before I leave? Hell at this point I’d even accept an explanation in the form of a puppet show. 

Thanx,
*******

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Performance Review

August 24, 2009

 

Dear ********,  

Since I’m leaving in 2 weeks, I thought I’d leave you with your performance review before I go instead of writing my actual resignation letter here. You can read my formal evaluation as sent via separate email, but I thought I’d include a simple summary here: 

You suck. 

Seriously.

I mean, wow. 

WOW,
*******

Opportunity knocks

August 24, 2009

Dear ********,

I got the opportunity to not see you every day. I’m taking it. 

Go to hell,

*******

Nice pants

August 19, 2009

Dear *******,

I want to thank you for wearing your stupid swishy pants. It has made my time much easier here and for that I am grateful. See, when I heard you swishing down the hall, I knew exactly how many seconds I had to quickly switch Internet windows from job hunting/blog reading/apartment searching/blogging/emailing/chatting back to something work-related. 

Best regards, 
*******

“Maggots, Michael, you’re eating maggots.”

August 19, 2009

Dear ********,

I bet you’re wondering which wall(s) I hid the 10-day old raw shrimp in, huh.  Well, I reckon you’ll find the location(s) as soon as you find that part from the air conditioner, the keys to the restrooms and what’s left of my pride. 

Happy hunting, you rotten cunt,

*******

Life is Good ™

August 19, 2009

Dear ********,

Every day I come to work I want to steal that poster bearing the girl out of the douche ad that screams “No joy in life? FREE DEPRESSION SCREENING.”  

It would go so well with the collection of Prozac ads that once hung above my bed. 

God knows I’ve been depressed for every one of the 372 days I’ve been employed here. Anyway, I’m taking it in 2 weeks. Try and stop me. 

Sincerely, 
*******

Kitchen Aide

August 18, 2009

Dear ********,

I am quitting in 2 weeks because I did not go to college for 5 years to be a kitchen attendant. Milk. Coffee. Sugar. Refill the soaps. Clean the dishes people leave. Clean out the refrigerator after someone has left what may have been pad thai for 5 months. Wipe up your crumbs. Milk. Coffee. Sugar. Coffee filters. Refill the soaps. Milk. Coffee. Sugar. Buy more papertowels. According to you, my job begins and ends in the kitchen.  

So don’t bother to interview anyone to replace me. Just send them out with $10 and your garbled French instructions and see what they come back with. If they don’t run off with the money, and manage to get even 1 of the million stupid kitchen things you check every day, they’re your new office manager. 

I hope someday you drown in a vat of Palmolive, you waste of sperm and eggs. 

Sincerely, 
*******

Jerkstore

August 17, 2009

Dear *******,

This office is full of jerks. You know it and I know it. Trouble is, you won’t admit your own jerkocity. 

You are a jerk. You demand results, take away the tools I need to do the job and blame me for failure. You bounce me between departments rather than taking the lead and acting like the DIRECTOR you’re paid to be. You’ve thrown me under the bus more times than I can count.   You micromanage me, insult me, belittle me, and expect me to enjoy being here. You’re a jerk, plain and simple. 

After I’m gone, don’t place a help-wanted ad, don’t call a temp agency. Call the Jerkstore; they’ll have exactly what you need. 

Fuck you,
*******

I quit

August 17, 2009
Dear *******, 

What, you still expect me to give you an explanation? 

Sincerely, 
*******

half-full

August 14, 2009

Dear Cunt-in-HR,

I technically don’t need to give you 2 weeks’ notice because you’re not my boss. But in lieu of punching you in the face on my way out,  I thought I’d share a little something before I leave. 

When you went to the field I was sure your plane would crash. It didn’t. I hoped you’d be taken hostage by Islamic militants. You weren’t. You returned to the office and continued your cuntastic ways. 

This weekend you’re going on vacation. Because I’m the eternal optimist, I know there IS a chance you could be mauled by a bear. There are at least 15 Lyme-disease laden ticks with your name on them.  People tell me there aren’t hordes of marading Somali pirates patrolling the New England woods but I beg to differ. And I still have faith that Satan himself will appear to drag you back to the firey pits from whence you came. 

Why? Just a little thing I like to call optimism. Some say the glass is half empty but I know better.

Even if those things don’t happen, there’s always next time. I’m sure of it.  And hell, writing all this made me happy too so I win either way. 

Sincerely,
MY NAME IS NOT HEY