The Honest Cover Letter
Dear Future Employer:
Look out!!!!
Phew, I just saved your life! Something almost fell on your head just now.
*Notice of Precaution* There is entirely too much pressure associated with the “cover letter” genre, namely how one is expected to prostitute oneself to a complete stranger for opportunistic and monetary gain. Not to say that I am at all beneath this form of prostitution, as I do it daily, but there is still some hesitance on my part to participate in its fraudulent treaties.
Let’s be honest with each other, shall we? Well, as honest as one can get in a one-sided conversation. You’re probably only going to read the first few sentences of this, make a broad-sided judgment call based on my name and font selection. It’s not because you’re an asshole (though you probably are b/c you’re the “boss” and all, jerk) but because cover letters are BORING! B-O-R-I you aint got no alibi, you boring! I’m bored already and I’m supposed to be wowing you into a submissive groveling condition. So here are the facts, on the off-chance that you’re still reading this.
1. I’m pretty lazy. No matter what task you assign me, some internal mechanism in my brain will hit the purge button each time you tell me what to do. Could be making a phone call or using deodorant—doesn’t matter. I won’t get around to doing it for a while. BUT, I will do it “sometime.” That’s a bonafide guarantee.
2. I am a working-class, multiracial, bisexual female with very little self-esteem and a penchant for filing lawsuits. I am half Native American but my skin pigmentation negates any sense of a cultural identity I could have had. But it looked great on scholarship applications. Cha ching. I was raised white, in a trailer that is now the University of Arizona Diagnostics Laboratory. They do water evaporation testing there now, I’m told.
3. I’m hard of hearing, and it affects my willingness to communicate with people, my tendency to mess up instructions and it also makes me appear either spacey, withdrawn, or incompetent. So when I do get around to doing the task you assign me, I’ll probably fuck it up anyway, just to be clear about that.
4. I steal office supplies—not big ones like computers or anything like that, but keep an eye on any pens, paperclips and the occasional stapler you might have lying around because—yoink!—you’ve just fallen victim to The Stapler Baron.
5. I’m barely literate—in fact, I purchased this cover letter from an online database. Could be the Declaration of Independence for all I know!
Please consider me for any and all positions you have available,
ttyl
Anna Pulley
P.S. Enclosed is a photo of me from the 2004 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. You’ll notice that the name does not match my own, but this is because of an unfortunate incident involving Paris Hilton, the witness protection program, and Disney. I am not at liberty to discuss it further.
Dear Future Employer:
Look out!!!!
Phew, I just saved your life! Something almost fell on your head just now.
*Notice of Precaution* There is entirely too much pressure associated with the “cover letter” genre, namely how one is expected to prostitute oneself to a complete stranger for opportunistic and monetary gain. Not to say that I am at all beneath this form of prostitution, as I do it daily, but there is still some hesitance on my part to participate in its fraudulent treaties.
Let’s be honest with each other, shall we? Well, as honest as one can get in a one-sided conversation. You’re probably only going to read the first few sentences of this, make a broad-sided judgment call based on my name and font selection. It’s not because you’re an asshole (though you probably are b/c you’re the “boss” and all, jerk) but because cover letters are BORING! B-O-R-I you aint got no alibi, you boring! I’m bored already and I’m supposed to be wowing you into a submissive groveling condition. So here are the facts, on the off-chance that you’re still reading this.
1. I’m pretty lazy. No matter what task you assign me, some internal mechanism in my brain will hit the purge button each time you tell me what to do. Could be making a phone call or using deodorant—doesn’t matter. I won’t get around to doing it for a while. BUT, I will do it “sometime.” That’s a bonafide guarantee.
2. I am a working-class, multiracial, bisexual female with very little self-esteem and a penchant for filing lawsuits. I am half Native American but my skin pigmentation negates any sense of a cultural identity I could have had. But it looked great on scholarship applications. Cha ching. I was raised white, in a trailer that is now the University of Arizona Diagnostics Laboratory. They do water evaporation testing there now, I’m told.
3. I’m hard of hearing, and it affects my willingness to communicate with people, my tendency to mess up instructions and it also makes me appear either spacey, withdrawn, or incompetent. So when I do get around to doing the task you assign me, I’ll probably fuck it up anyway, just to be clear about that.
4. I steal office supplies—not big ones like computers or anything like that, but keep an eye on any pens, paperclips and the occasional stapler you might have lying around because—yoink!—you’ve just fallen victim to The Stapler Baron.
5. I’m barely literate—in fact, I purchased this cover letter from an online database. Could be the Declaration of Independence for all I know!
Please consider me for any and all positions you have available,
ttyl
Anna Pulley
P.S. Enclosed is a photo of me from the 2004 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. You’ll notice that the name does not match my own, but this is because of an unfortunate incident involving Paris Hilton, the witness protection program, and Disney. I am not at liberty to discuss it further.
posted by annap at 9:10 AM
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