Amazing Rejection Letters
By Johnny Apocalypse
June 1st, 2014
There seems to be a fine art to writing the rejection letter. That’s probably why they’re almost all form letters these days. You get rejected for a job, you get rejected for a new lease, and they just pull up their standardized document, print a copy and mail it to you. And there’s likely good reason; most prosperous companies don’t want the average employee writing them. They just don’t know what they’ll end up writing.
While it seems to be good practice to avoid the possibility of someone writing “you no get job ‘cause your grammar bad” and tossing it in the mail, it seems that a more heartfelt response could add a nice touch. One may think that the break-up letter to the now ex-significant other could avoid this pit-trap, it’s all too common for people to resort to the common “it’s not you, it me”, or nowadays “I’m in love with you, but I’m not in love WITH you”. What the hell does that even mean?
So here are some fine templates for you, your boss, your landlord, or your parents. Just change up the names, toss around some specifics, and you instantly have a non-standard form letter. While it doesn’t solve the problem, it at least changes things up a bit.
I saw your numerous drafts of the “Dear John” letter you were working on in the living room. And frankly, the computer file named “bailing on the husband.doc” was an even worse giveaway. But I have to say that the divorce is mutual, so you don’t have to worry about breaking my heart.
When I found out you were sleeping with the pool boy, I started sleeping with my paralegal. At first it was just for revenge, but she’s really pretty smart and interesting. Which is more than I can say for you. Plus, she has marketable skills for the job world. Last I checked, watching old reruns of “Green Acres” and “Leave it to Beaver” wasn’t a good thing to put on the resume. Even if I paid you alimony, and you and Jimmy the towel boy got married, the best job you get won’t allow your combined incomes to keep this house. You couldn’t even afford a studio apartment in this neighborhood!
Incidentally, I irradiated my testicles in the microwave when I was 16, during a rough game of truth or dare, so don’t ask me for child support. And you wondered why I liked slapping the kids around!
Dear aspiring actor,
While we appreciate your audition for “The Walking Dead”, we regret to inform you that we have opted to go with someone else for the “zombie extra” role. While we appreciate your willingness to carve up your own face, “saving money on the makeup” isn’t the best enticement you could offer.
Furthermore, we want to tell you to go back to school and get a degree in accounting. You just can’t act. Your attempts at stumbling and moaning were truly pathetic, and that’s really saying something. Even Keanu Reeves could stumble and moan convincingly (see season seven, episode six!). You’re better off in the business world, at least for a few decades. If the long, dull days trapped under florescent lights turn you into an actual zombie, please feel free to audition again.
Dear Dr. Jackson,
It is my duty to inform you that your referral for a triple-phase bone scan for your patient, Randall Madigan, has been denied. Frankly, our institution considers this test a bunch of damn black magic, and health insurance doesn’t cover such arcane and unholy procedures.
Dear Mr. Williams,
I regret to inform you that after careful consideration, we have chosen to go with another applicant for the position of General Manager. While we usually take this time to wish you good luck finding employment elsewhere, this will not be the case here. We believe that you may be inherently unemployable, and wouldn’t wish to curse even our fiercest competitors with your presence.
During the interview you were asked directly “why should we hire you?”, you simply said “come on, I got this shit!” Not only is this inappropriate language for a job interview, it’s entirely too vague. When you said that you had a “wicked tongue in the bedroom”, this was not what we meant when we asked about your oral skills, and is again inappropriate.
Finally, you could only show utter confusion when we asked why you had been unemployed for so long. Perhaps this letter can give you some insight into the matter.
Thank you for sending your demo tape to us, but at this time we’re going to have to pass on your proposed recording contract. This is, in part, to the astronomical salary you requested, but to a much larger degree your complete lack of songwriting prowess. The demo tape was completely composed of cover songs with their lyrics slightly changed, and only slightly at best. Some entries, like “Slap me Baby Two More Times” and “Waterlung” were, put nicely, laughable.
Of note, your song “Hey Frank”, was badly ripped off from Jimi Hendrix’s “Hey Joe”. The only changes we noticed were your near-consistent use of “Frank” instead of “Joe”, and your reversal of “I’m going down to shoot my old lady” to “I’m going down to shoot my gay lover”. While we appreciate your willingness to accept the homosexual audiences, you didn’t even change the numerous uses of “she” and “her”. Frank’s gay lover would obviously not be a “she”, nor a “her”.
Get your head out of your ass,
Dear Ms. Johannson,
While we appreciate the time you took to apply for one of our rental properties, at this time we have to inform you that we cannot accept you as a renter. We checked with your references, and we learned some rather unfortunate things about your lifestyle habits.
Your previous landlord, Janice Barnes, has told us her theory that you apparently don’t believe in flushing your toilets, as well as your fondness for stealing light fixtures. Another property-owner, Clifford Corbett, advised us that when you moved out he found dead cats nailed to the walls of every room in the house, including the garage, as well as three disheveled and badly malnourished teenagers locked in the basement. He too mentioned that every toilet was “filled to the brim”.
Finally, we spoke with Alex Tanner, who demands to know what happened to all of the drywall. Apparently, it was all neatly cut from its place and removed from the premises.
Frankly, we’re confused as to why you listed these “references” on your application. We would advise you that we hope you move into a cardboard box, but we fear for the well-being of the box.
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