|
Actual
letter of resignation from an employee at Zantex Computers,
USA,
to her boss, who apparently resigned very soon
afterwards!
Dear Mr. Baker,
As a graduate of an institution of higher education, I have a few very basic expectations. Chief among these is that my direct superiors have an intellect that ranges above the common ground squirrel. After your consistent
and annoying harassment of my coworkers and me during the commission of our
duties, I can only surmise that you are one of the few true genetic wastes of
our time.
Asking me, a network administrator,
to explain every little nuance of everything I do each time you happen
to stroll into my office is not only a waste of time, but also a waste of precious
oxygen. I was hired because I know how to network computer systems, and
you were a pparently hired to provide amusement to myself and other
employees, who watch you vainly
attempt to understand the concept of "cut and paste" for the hundredth time.
You will never
understand computers. Something as incredibly simple as binary still gives you
too many options. You will also never understand why people hate you, but I am
going to try and explain it to you, even though I am sure this will be just as
effective as telling you what an IP is. Your shiny new iMac has more
personality than you ever will.
You walk around the
building all day, shiftlessly looking for fault in others. You have a sharp
dressed useless look about you that may have worked for your interview, but now
that you actually have responsibility, you pawn it off on overworked staff,
hoping their talent will cover for your glaring ineptitude. In a world of
managerial evolution, you are the blue-green algae that everyone else eats and
laughs at. Managers like you are a sad proof of the Dilbert
principle.
Since this situation
is unlikely to change without you getting a full frontal lobotomy reversal, I am
forced to tender my resignation, however I have a few parting
thoughts.
1. When someone
calls you in reference to employment, it is illegal for you to give me a bad
recommendation. The most you can say to hurt me is "I prefer not to comment."
I will have friends randomly call you over the next couple of years to keep you
honest, because I know you would be unable to do it on your
own.
2. I have all the
passwords to every account on the system, and I know every password you have
used for the last five years. If you decide to get cute, I am going to
publish your "favorites list", which I conveniently saved when you made me "back
up" your useless files. I do believe that terms like "Lolita" are not
usually viewed favorably by the administration.
3. When you borrowed
the digital camera to "take pictures of your Mother's birthday," you neglected
to mention that you were going to take pictures of yourself in the mirror
nude. Then you forgot to erase them like the techno-moron you really
are. Suffice it to say I have never seen such odd acts with a sauce
bottle, but I assure you that those have been copied and kept in safe places
pending the authoring of a glowing letter of recommendation. (Try to use a spell
check please; I hate having to correct your mistakes.)
Thank you for your
time, and I expect the letter of recommendation on my desk by
8:00
am tomorrow. One word
of this to anybody, and all of your little twisted repugnant obsessions will be
open to the public. Never f*** with your systems administrator. Why? Because
they know what you do with all that free time!
Wishing you a grand
and glorious day,
Cecelia
|