Dear Sir or Madam – or Sir, if I was right the first time, if not – madam,
I am writing in reference to the advertisement in the London Evening Standard in order to apply for the position of Warehouse Manager.
I have managed many warehouses in a previous life (during which I was Scottish), but my current occupation in this life is “standing in the local park shouting at trees stopping geese from mating using the appropriate measures”. Dirty buggers, those geese. My current salary is ‘as many acorns as I can carry’, plus Income Support from the people at the local benefits office who are all homosexual – as I’m sure you’re perfectly aware. I hope that you are able to match, if not improve, my current financial package as I could not accept a pay cut. I have to steal bread from the geese as it is.
I believe that I am highly qualified for this job because I’m me and nobody knows me better than myself. I left school at the age of sixteen and graduated with a degree in mayonnaise, with a postgraduate certificate in alopecia. I am happy to point out how this is relevant to warehouse work if you are too bloody stupid to make the connection yourselves. I realise that you have to be diligent and pro-active to lead a team and I will be, once I learn what the words diligent and pro-active mean. I would like to assure you that I am very much a people person because, being a person, that personally makes me people.
I am willing to work any time you want me to and am very flexible – just watch me touch my toes. See? You weren’t watching! Look… see? Good. You will be pleased to know that I do not have a serious drug habit but am prepared to develop one if you’ve got any particularly good shit there… the stuff Psycho Larry gets for me just hasn’t cut the mustard recently. Finally, although I am male, I am prepared to be female if the job requires it. I may even enjoy it. A change is as good as a rest, as they say. Whoever they may be. I don’t know who they are, but I’m sure they’re watching me.
If selected for interview, I will be pleased to discuss my candidacy further, face to face, eye to eye, cheek to cheek. Please give me at least two days notice so that I can find a babysitter for my satsumas.
Dr. M. Goatbreed, OBE.
p.s. I really like Mick Hucknall off of Simply Red. He rocks.