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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 apparently 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
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