An Honest Job Posting

Thank you for your interest in the job opening announced on our website, please send your application materials, including a list of references, to the email address below. No phone calls or unsolicited office visits. 

As a matter of fact, no applications either. Let's be honest: you're not getting this job. And while we think it's absolutely adorable that you sent in that painfully crafted cover letter and resume, gently releasing them like a silken white dove, with the economy in the shape it's in we've already received personalized gift-bags and monogrammed silk bathrobes from over 10,000 applicants, all of them with twenty-five years of work experience and joint J.D.-P.h.D.-Z.D. degrees. (That's right, Z.D. We don't even know what that stands for, but chances are, you don't have it. We're hoping it's a Doctorate of Ziti). They also all applied five years before we even POSTED this position, AND knew the exact career steps to take to get hired here AS A CHILD while you were wasting time playing, you time-wasting, childhood-having IDIOT.

In fact, unless you're an aggregate ethnic blend of 50% Native American, 30% Fijian, and 20% endangered Californian redwood, came to this country by way of Vanuatu after founding a children's orphanage in Namibia, and began your storied military career as a Fusilier in the trenches of World War I, I wouldn't plan on being employed this decade (and most economists agree that's the optimistic outlook). The last time we hired someone was in 1992, and before working for us her primary job was at the World Bank cutting out her own organs and donating them to starving African children before regrowing them.

She also simultaneously worked for this one guy in Washington, you probably haven't heard of him but he has the legal authority to buy and sell your entire family to a clan of goat-herders in northern Slovenia if it would improve the bilateral relationship. She also speaks seventeen different languages and left her war-torn country via a floating barrel when she was five because her entire family had been killed in the genocide there, but not before she first cured cancer and then decided to come to our fair country to find a room she could pay a thousand dollars a month to live in and tell herself it's a good deal and worth the vomit-inducingly small paycheck. And we just hired her as a part-time janitor.

And don't even think about contacting that one buddy of yours who works for us. He's not even an employee, he's an intern. He only said he could flag your resume to stem the endless tide of depression he's been experiencing every time he looks at the 100K in student loans he took out to pay for grad school. In fact, he's not even a real person, but a composite blend of nine Chinese teenagers whose parents are paying us for the chance for their kids to do HTML coding using only half of a broken Etch-A-Sketch in rural Guizhou. And man, are they smarter than you. Waaaaaaaaaay smarter. I mean, let's face it, those kids work for nothing, I mean, literally nothing. They're trapped in a cycle of such extreme poverty that they'll be lucky if their great-grandchildren can afford a bicycle pump and a pair of socks. But hey, that's the miracle of capitalism.

And even if by some bit of networking wizardry you get chosen to come in for an interview, you'll get to compete with forty other schmucks who show up to this "one-on-one" ordeal. Oops, guess we lied! "Hi everybody, hi! Could I have your attention please; I'd like to thank all of you for coming in and prostituting yourself for the part-time, soul-crushingly monotonous position we have available. I'd like to thank SOME of you for the elaborately mullioned giftbaskets you've showered us with, those of you who did have moved on to the next round. If you could all assume the position for Round Two, the physical challenge will be beginning momentarily. We've set up a lovely little cage match here in the office and then after that, you are literally going to jump through hoops for us, which by the by, we've lit on fire. This is all, of course, pointless anyway because we're going end up giving the job to that one douchebag we've never met before but is best friends with someone who used to work here five years ago. Also he has a ridiculously hot sister and we're all trying to hit that".

So thanks very much for your interest in our organization, we'll be sure to "get back to you" just as "soon as we can." Due to the large volume of applications our company receives you will never actually hear from us, but please take some solace in the fact that your pathetic, utterly laughable desire to exchange your labor for some kind of financial reward has given all of us in the office a brief moment of joy in an otherwise sordid and colorless corporate existence.


Now fuck off.



The Management