ashutosh_cool16
05-13-2004, 07:31 PM
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 that of 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
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 that of 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