Here is a revised version of “Dear Prospective Employer” in case you missed it before. This is a letter I wrote while waiting at a job interview. I felt naked, nervous, afraid at the time, on my last thread. I did well, but I couldn’t help feel that I lost a piece of myself there in that very common ritual. That is simply because, Dear Reader, I was desperate. This article on Investopedia does a bang up job at explaining unemployment verses underemployment if you can avoid the incessant popups. This one is likely to go into the upcoming title Letters Never Meant to be Read.
Dear Prospective Employer,
Yes, I have achieved things. Yes, I can do your no frills job with satisfaction of everyone in your petty, cramped office. I maintain the ability to sit there at nausea, waiting for another satisfactory human to complete a mundane task thereby handing the baton to me while strutting, late as usual, so I can take the “project” that last leg before it goes to the big boss.
I want to thank you so much for peering at my resume and giving me even the slightest chance at getting a job. I have bills to pay, after all, and they keep mounting. They call for my heart to be ripped out and served on a silver platter among others in a nice long row, still pumping and bleeding for sure. We do want to avoid that. What have I been doing since my last job? I can tell you. I have been paying one bill off with another down the road to include hefty interest. I have been using plastic as if it were real money, funds I actually had. I have been screwing my future self to the wall of shame.
I perfected the art of my resume, skewing the truth here and there to get past your robot gate guards who scan lives for key words and phrases. I even paid someone with debt to make my rap sheet just so. I have fooled your coded keepers this time for sure and can only say that it is all there, see it? See all of my degrees that nobody cares about but everybody said I should get? My apologies, I have too much education for you. Do people with degrees make you squeamish? See my previous work experience, even the times when I went out on my own and took a chance? Oh, you don’t like those items either. They scream, “not a team player” for sure. I should have put something else in there, damn. I should have pretended just a little more, given myself honorary employee status during those years of failed entrepreneurship.
What happened to my past precious business ventures? Why do I no longer run that “company” or operate that personalized service? Well, I discovered, just as you know, that employees don’t care. Nobody can afford to pay anyone to care. A “living wage” is a joke, a game being played like a carrot on a stick. Must use a fake carrot though, a real one would spoil, dangling there so long and that wouldn’t do. There was also the issue of scalability. My big plan to never talk to people like you again worked for a time. Others got wind of this success and wanted to join which caused too many cooks in the kitchen, it happens. Also, such items as budgeting for growth and payroll tax aren’t on a learning curve and my expensive degree programs didn’t discuss pitfalls. That happens too. I learned quite a bit during those experiences, much more than the idiot sitting next to you in that cubicle who eats meatball sandwiches and takes twenty six minute breaks. So why not pick me? Why not take a chance on someone who knows what life is really like?
Perhaps I am being too honest here. What I need to do is lie about all of it. I should give my buddies the heads up, give out their numbers as my previous employers, gain true status. I could even offer them a sixer to make machine or copy room noises, hustle and bustle in the background. Oh, the heights I have risen to, but now it is time to come down from my perch and do some common good for this world, do some real work with you.
Or maybe all this time and effort I am putting into writing this and a thousand others would be better spent on something nefarious? Yes, I hear that criminal enterprises are always hiring and why not take a cue from the bill collectors anyway? Maybe I should just create a real leadership role for myself. I could better spend my time reading the paper. The police beat would allow me to build a team and put my skills to better, more profitable use.
No, that just wouldn’t do. The risks are too great and what would my mom think? I suppose I should just settle for begging for that hourly wage you offer and the fringe of being by your side. I will do a good job, I swear. Not great, but good, and solid, real solid too.
I am desperate. I am alone, afraid of the future. I am naked, just as you wanted me. Take me now. I will do whatever you ask.