Open Letter To A Potential Future Employer Which Is Not My Actual Cover Letter

Dear Potential Future Employer for Whom this Letter Is Not My Actual Cover Letter,

You are making me include a cover letter with my application, Potential Future employer.  You are forcing me to sit down at the computer and stare at a blank screen for four hours to write you a cover letter. And I find the gull of your request a bit off-putting, to be honest.  This task is never required of me at any other time in my life.  When I walk up to strange women on the street and ask them on dates, they don’t ask for a formal letter that’s supposed to convince them to date me.  They’re already convinced.  Mostly, that they won’t be dating me because I’m 24 and balding.

Also, when it’s a degree above room temperature, I sweat right through my entire shirt.  Armpits, lower back, up the spine, belly button, nipples.  All drenching uncomfortable, sweaty crop circles into my shirt.  Is that the kind of person you want working in your office, Potential Future Employer?  Because if I write a really convincing cover letter, that’s the kind of person you’re going to have to deal with five days a week, nine hours a day.  I’m not kidding.  My scent will stick to you, to your clothes, your hair.  It will haunt you.  It’ll creep into your nose while your kids are opening their Christmas presents, and you’ll scare them as you run screaming into the backyard and throw yourself headlong into their kiddie pool that’s sitting in the backyard, frozen over just so you can get the stench out.  I’m just warning you.  It’s happened before.  11th grade.  Mr. Flanighan.

And what if I can’t figure out what to write in my cover letter?  It isn’t my fault the screen’s blank.  Because of your ridiculous request, I have to figure out a way to weave together the phrases, “team player,” “goal-oriented,” and “office assistant,” while somehow connecting them to my college degree in 19th Century European Novelists.  That was my major specifically because I wasn’t a team player and I had no goals.  I didn’t become a 20th Century European Novelists major “to contribute in a productive way during team meetings.”  Unless, being productive in team meetings includes reading Dostoyevsky alone in the corner while sipping organic, free trade coffee, I don’t know I can convince you in any sort of form letter to hire me.  Where’s the job for people who are, “awkward at large social gatherings,” and “won’t have any discernable idea about what they want to do until they’re 35?”  Fuck, you are making this hard for me, Potential Future Employer.

Is there something I’m not getting?  I can’t think of any reason I should be writing 400 words to you explaining how I’d be so excited to work at your company.  I’m applying for the job.  Can’t you, you know, read between the lines?  Isn’t that proof enough of my interest?  If I wasn’t interested in working for you then I wouldn’t be applying, instead I’d be writing this very letter to the other asshole who was making writing a goddamn cover letter.  I mean, what do you want to know? I’m really good at Risk.  Have you ever played Risk, Potential Future Employer?  Yeah, the board game.  Well, I’m good at it.  I have played it, and stuck with it, and dominated the world on a number of occasions, which shows, you know, stick-to-itiveness and, uhh, persistence, and attributes like that.  Attributes that are desirable to an employer such as yourself. 

Of course, I also tend to masturbate too much and feel lonely as a consequence, which I found out from my therapist, who insisted that I masturbated not as a means of self-gratification, but rather as a coping mechanism I’ve developed to deal with feeling underloved by those closest to me throughout my life.  Girlfriends, best friends, brothers, sisters, you name it.  I replace the love they never gave me with the vice grip of my own hand every night in my room with the fan running, no less, so I won’t have to listen to the shame.  But will that affect my job performance?  It’s hard to say.  Though, in some small way, I’m sure it could.  The family stuff.  Not the self-copulation.  If anything that will help me stay productive and motivated. 

We aren’t so different though.  Cover letters are your own, personal stroke-fest, aren’t they?  We have something common in that way, don’t we, Potential Future Employer?  A deep-seeded need for validation drives you to have complete strangers send you little letters proclaiming their love for you and your company.  For every quiet night I spend with the twig of my person in my hand, there you are in your office with a cover letter in your hand basically performing the same act.  You think you’re clever, but I see what you’re doing.  It’s so pathetic, Potential Future Employer, that even one contrived letter of blown smoke that’s headed straight up your backside, sent from a desperately unemployed 20-something is somehow gratifying to you, and nurtures you in a way your mother, obviously, never did.

I ‘m glad you finally know this is how I feel.  You should also know I’m afraid of the noise chairs make when they’re dragged across linoleum floors.  I thought I’d add that because I’m about to be knee-deep in the actual cover letter I’m writing for you.  And that’s going to be mostly banalities and bullshit.  Thank you for your time.  I look forward to hearing from you.


Applicant For Future Employment at Your Company


Dear Applicant,

Thank you for your inquiry.  We are no longer hiring at this time, but we will keep your resume and cover letter on file for future reference.


No Longer Potential Future Employer