When an Offer Letter Emboldens You

  As some of you guys know, my sister works for a government agency. Her job is so top secret that she once described it as “tracking blue otters through Iran”, which is total malarkey. As riveting as her job may be, her manager makes working there a living hell. It has been asserted in many an article that most people don’t run away from bad companies; they are fleeing bad management. ‘T-Rex’, my sister’s manager, is a horrible enough human to illicit the flight response in anyone.  My sister and I were talking on the phone the other night and she told me some exciting news: After years of job searching she had been promised an offer letter.

“Wow! That’s great,” I said. “So when are they sending it?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “But they said they would send it! They showed me where my desk would be and everything.”

I could hear her grinning.

Now, as most intelligent working people know, you don’t begin the process of ‘showing out’ at your old job until you firmly have an offer letter –with a start date and salary range – in your hands. However, we’re Gyekyes, and can and will never be accused of being “most intelligent” people. My sister and I began crafting a letter of resignation…right there on her work phone line.

“Every letter of resignation has 4 elements,” I began. “It has a salutation, an introduction, a body and a conclusion.”

“Yes,” she finished up. “And it shouldn’t be too long.”

“Nope. It should get straight to the point.”

Dear T-Rex:

For the last 5 years, you have made coming to work as pleasurable as having my pubic hairs plucked one by one with a pair of dull tweezers while having dry ice thrown into my face. My first words when I wake up in the morning are “F*ck me! I have to get up and play Lord of the Rings and face the dragon today.” Because that’s what you are, T – A dragon. The Imperial Dragon (of the KKK) to be precise.

Well, I got news for you. My name ain’t Frodo Baggins.

It would be infantile of me to propose that your lack of manners, your condescending attitude and your unwillingness to give me any assignments outside of desk work or a 6 month mission to Afghanistan (which I vehemently declined)  make you a racist, but there we have it. You alleged that your social “awkwardness”  is a result of your PhD in physics. Physics neither teaches manners nor retracts from it; therefore this assertion only confirms what I have always suspected: that you are an idiot – and perhaps more pointedly, a rancid, racist whore.

If you have not surmised by now, I am resigning, and have no intention of giving you a two-week notice. Etiquette advises that one must never burn bridges, but why would I want to cross back over a bridge that leads directly to Hell? That being said, I bid you adieu.

This letter will self-destruct in 5 seconds. It has been tracking your eye movements using the technology I invented and presented to the company 2 years ago, but that you disregarded because my presentation lacked “personality”. Maybe my Ghanaian accent was too strong.

You will be blinded in 3…2…1

I’m out!

POOOFFF!!

  • A-dub

    Wow – this is nothing like the letter we crafted… What happened to
    “Dear T-Rex,
    F* you … I’m out!
    Sincerely,
    A-dub!”

    And by the way – it is not top secret!