Cover Letter

Acme Consolidated Widgets

102 Uranus St.

San Francisco, CA.

 

 

Dear Mr. Prospective Employer,

My name is Mike and to tell you the truth I’m too old to be going through this shit. No really. In construction (I’m told, like a fading starlet, not to reveal my age or how long I’ve been working.) the job finding process goes like this: Application ; “Ya hiring?”

Interview; “Bring your tools?”

Negotiation; “Yeah.”

References; “Who ya work for?”

“The Karuts.”

Reference check: “East bay Krauts or west bay Krauts?”

“Milo, west bay.”

Provisional hire; “Jump up on the scaffold and go to work,”

I’ve finally got the message; I find myself in a new time and era – you win.

I’ll be good and try not to think on the past or the ridiculousness of the convoluted corporate evolved process. I promise. This time if you give me a job all you have to do is say jump and I’m jumping. Of course you understand that I probably won’t jump as high as your younger prospects but what is the point? Are we going for distance too? And if that’s the case all you have to do is tell me, I’ll lose a little weight and get some good shoes and hell, I’ll do my best. Really. So just gimme a chance and you can see how responsive an older member of your highly competitive workforce can be.

And Mr. Prospective Employer, if being a good worker bee in your corporate grindhouse means snitching on others or character assassination or just plain lying about what the others say about you and your cost cutting, profit raising, labor gouging measures I’m up to it. You know there was a time back in the bad old days when I had a Union behind me (remember unions?) when I wouldn’t take shit from any boss. Well those days are far behind me; I swear to that. I’ve seen the err of my ways and I’m sure I’ll be the sniveling spineless wretch of a hungry worker that you’ve been looking for. I know which side my bread is buttered on. My new mantra goes like this; a poor person never gave me a job. Say amen. So I’m hitching my wagon to you, if you’ll take me, and brother I don’t care which way we go just as long as it is away from this mess here. Yeah, after the divorce and bankruptcy and loss of health insurance and tapped out unemployment and my kid hating me and the landlord tacking the eviction notices and me tearing them up and breaking down on the one-oh-one and the electric shut off and disconnected phone and holes in all three pair of shoes and torn knees in my pants from begging for work and year round dinner popcorn, and waking with the fear and fear and fear nonstop for long enough to develop a tic. Did I say that I haven’t been laid in a year? Well I guess you could say I think I’m your ideal candidate.

Look forward to working with you soon, references upon request (although some of these guys have died over this past two years their widow’s will mostly vouch for me). 

Sincerely,

Mike Murray