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- 1997 VS Commodore Exec
Actual letter of resignation from an employee at Zantex Computers, USA, to
her boss, who apparently resigned very soon afterwards!
Dear Mr. Baker,
As an employee 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 co-workers and myself 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. Seeing as 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
her boss, who apparently resigned very soon afterwards!
Dear Mr. Baker,
As an employee 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 co-workers and myself 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. Seeing as 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
