Dear “Boss’s Secret Nickname He Doesn’t Know About,”
I have some things to tell you. First is that I’m fired. I know, I don’t technically have the authority to fire people ever since the incident with “intern you canned for eating your lunch from the fridge.” However, I don’t like the idea of quitting. It just sounds so lame. Secondly, I want to leave “stupid company name derived from another language, but no one knows the real translation” a better workplace environment than I found it. So I have some suggestions.
Let’s start with company culture. No one likes working here. I know the company pays a lot of money for “dumb ropes course everyone hates to go on” and “horrible, horrible potluck staged outside on the hottest day of the year,” but frankly, they’re not worth your time. Maybe it’d be worth sinking that money into upgrading “whatever archaic software the whole company uses” or buying a new “appliance in break room that’s been broken since you started.” Hell, springing for a monthly round of drinks at “terrible bar no one would go to if it weren’t around the corner from your office” wouldn’t be a half bad idea.
Now on to the people who run the show here. “CFO who got his degree from a mediocre grad school” doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. I know his suits make him look intelligent, but he bought them online after reading the latest “whatever shitty mens magazine he tries to hide in his desk.” His numbers on “the latest project that took twice as long as it had any right being” are completely wrong, and I’m guessing that within a few months, you guys are gonna lose the “client company that makes a product no one understands” account. As for “CEO who no one ever sees,” maybe you should tell him that buying a company jet doesn’t make any damn sense given our last few quarters, and the fact that no one except him is allowed to use it, and he only takes it to “gaudy, tasteless vacation spots that a reasonable person wouldn’t find themselves dead in.”
Why have I stayed at this job for so long? Great question. First, the money. Sure, “terrible salary that doesn’t nearly cover your student loans and bar tabs” isn’t a lot, but it’s better than nothing. But I mostly took this job because working at “fast food chain not known for quality” was my only other option at the time. But thanks to you promoting me to “title that sounds fancy, but in practice is still your old job,” other companies think that I have a lot to offer them. Sure, I may not be a wizard at “simple thing you should have learned in college instead of drinking,” but I’m at least savvy enough now to know “business culture term that Silicon Valley made up, but means nothing” from “other business culture term made up in the ‘50s that also coincidentally means nothing.” Thanks to the “more time than you should have” years that I’ve spent here, I now have the ability to get a job at a place like “competitor that probably isn’t any better, but naming them will piss your boss off.” At least they value their “job title that won’t exist in three years” there.
I know this is hard to hear, “Boss’s other nickname he doesn’t know about,” but I felt like you deserved to know. As for yourself, I’d like you to kindly invite you to stick “common household item” up your “orifice where things should not be stuck.” You’re a horrible human being, and “his wife who married him for the money” deserves better.
P.S. I cared so little for this job, I pulled this form letter off of a website that I browsed every day when I should have been working..
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