It's been about a month since I moved to Phoenix from Pagosa Springs (don't ask why I'd leave Paradise for a veritable shit hole) and I've been forced to reconsider the freelance writing gig. So (Doh!), I'm on the hunt for customer service jobs in order to make the bills.
Don't get me wrong -- I've banged nails when I was playing guitar in a punk band in order to pay the rent and made calls when it was clear I had no else recourse to feed my family but to work the phones -- but I worked my ass off as a journalist and a writer and I thought I'd take that to the bank in the Valley of the Suck.
So far... FAIL.
I know, I know, it was insane to give up a good job in this economy. And while I loved what I did, love drove me to this place and circumstances (lack of writing jobs and the death of print journalism) led me to seek out work on the local employment web site.
Holding my nose, I went from Best to Worst. Filling out applications and changing up cover letters and resumes as best I could, I hadn't considered how close I'd come to lapping up whale shit... until I saw this.
Really?
A wave of nausea came over me.
Had I stooped this low?
(I heaved and it's all beneath, that stinking orange pile of puke).
Frustrated with what the hand that life had handed me, I decided to finally strike back. I'd had had it. I'd filled out enough bullshit applications and, while I had no intention of filling out this one, I decided to take a break and write this cover letter and resume:
September 7, 2012
https://www.jimmcquiggin.com
Dear (Human Resources Person),
While surfing through a local employment web site, I came across your listing to fill a Customer Service Representative position in one of your local PLS stores. Judging by the qualifications specified for this position, it appears that the bar has been set rather low for potential candidates. Indeed, aside from a pulse, it looks as though the only other requirements are the lack of prospects for a truly decent job, a dearth of empathy and total moral bankruptcy.
I noticed on your own web site that PLS stands for, “People – Location – Service.” Was that recently changed from, “Predatory Lending Scam,” or am I confused? From what I know (which is not much, being a stupid writer and ex-journalist), PLS takes advantage of low-income workers by charging outrageous fees for cashing checks (since, living paycheck-to-paycheck, they have difficulty maintaining a bank account) or charging interest rates between 300 and 700 percent on loans made to help folks pay a utility bill, fix a car or not end up with their belongings on the curb.
A quick search on Google reveals that PLS has been generous with contributions in 2012 to candidates who support the predatory lending industry*. It stands to reason that PLS would throw money at Mitt Romney’s campaign: His fiscal policies would perpetuate the kind of “serf economy” in which the predatory lending industry thrives. However, although 60 percent of PLS contributions have gone to Republicans this cycle, Democrats who have been friendly to the predatory lending industry (opposing interest rate caps or repayment mitigation) have been the recipients of PLS largesse. Yet, those contributions are most likely chump change compared to the shadow money amounts donated to PACs and Super PACs, even though the 99 percent of Americans who play by the rules, voting with their feet and not their check books, will never really know just how much PLS has spent trying to keep a cup over their balls. Nonetheless, I can say it’s a fair bet that the laughably-named PLS “Good Neighbor” PAC isn’t advocating for more stringent finance and banking regulations, livable wages or affordable healthcare.
Look, (Human Resources Person), I know you’re just a “Talent Coordinator” (or whatever this week’s Biz-speak is for “hiring person”) and have nothing to do with PLS lending practices; hopefully, you’ll come to the realization that you work for a truly awful, immoral company that feeds off the misery and misfortune of our most vulnerable citizens and obstructs the ability of those people to work towards a better life.
Obviously, I’m not a good candidate for your organization. I like my sleep and it helps with shaving if I can look myself in the mirror. There is no way I could advise anyone to take out a PLS loan, no matter how dire their situation, nor could I spend my days as a (to quote Yeats) “raving slut who keeps the till.”
Sincerely,
Jim McQuiggin
*(Data reported by the Center for Responsive Politics, from documents filed at the FEC)
On top of that, I provided this resume:
Objective: To work towards the demise of the predatory lending industry, vote for candidates who support a livable wage and universal health care, put an end to the obscene income inequality that is destroying our country’s economy (and social fabric), facilitate the enlightenment of misguided conservatives and hope like hell that we’re not too late in curbing climate change.
Skills and expertise:
· Left wing bomb-thrower.
Misplacer of hyphens and bullet points, Jack.
· Writer of fake resumes.
· Part-time clown (but not the scary or insane type and NOT a Juggalo).
· I’m just a gigolo (hummala bebhuhla bop, zeebuhla bop).
Ability to put a bullet point out there and then hang, cooly. See?
· Chump, but not YOUR chump, motherfucker.
So, STFU with all your Windows shit and read the rest of my so-called resume.
Experience:
kossack (2004 – present)
Mostly lurking, at times commenting, rarely throwing up a diary. PLEASE, don’t ask for any references there, they’re all whacked. Or “Wack”; check the latest spelling.
punk (1976 – present)
From the Ramones to the Refused to Wild Flag, the music keeps getting better and better. It’s YOU who keeps getting lamer.
surfer (1979 – present)
Sweet ride, the whole fucking thing.
Accomplishments and Awards:
This
Just uploaded the nino.std virus to your system when you opened this document and now, your shit is about to get wacky with Russian porn, your monitor is going to melt and all your personal information is in the hands of Filipino Box Spring Hogs.
(Ha ha ha ha! Just kidding, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, computer-wise. Or joke-wise. Take your pick).
And that
A few shots of Patron playing the “Barack drinking game,” slamming one every time the President mentioned “fair.” Whew, I’m WAY more fucked up than when I played the same game during the RNC.
References:
Zombie Edward R. Murrow, dead journalist and correspondent: "Brains! MMMMmmm!"
David Gregory, moderator, Meet the Press (some show on Sunday morning on NBC): “We’ve asked Jim to appear on our show and he keeps responding that my mommy is some kind of made up Dick Puppet. That’s unacceptable.”
Ann Romney, wife, Mitt Romney: “We asked Jim to teach Tagg how to be a "good boy" and, the next thing we knew, Mitt and I were spending all kinds of money in Juarez and disavowing our son of the psychic powers of the mommy dick puppet. Steer clear of this guy at all costs.”
We'll see if (Human Resources Person) will get back to me on this -- if so, I'll post a follow up -- but Jesus, it felt so good to unload after writing so many bullshit cover letters, kissing ass, and inflating crap in order to get a job I really don't want to do.
Welcome to the new economy... jobs so shitty they can't ship them overseas. I'm part of that now, at least until I can get enough freelance work that doesn't involve writing shit on Twitter or Facebook.
(Cross posted on The Firebird Suite where I blog about music, parenting, politics, and the suckitude that is Phoenix)