Diagraming Your Perfectly Pleasant Post-Interview Email Back to Me

“Hey Brad”

Oh boy. Terrible start. I can hear the sigh in that “hey.” It’s the same sort of “hey” that kicks off “Hey asshole” or “Hey listen we need to talk about your behavior at the party.” I knew it.

“Thanks for taking the time to meet.”

Alright, I see. I took the time to meet. I did you a favor, huh. Like my time as an unemployed idiot is so valuable. I could have used that time to do a million other things that weren’t trying to impress you so I can get this job. Going to fuck myself being top on your list, clearly.

“It was great to talk to you.”

Look, I’m under no illusions here. I didn’t expect interviewing me to rock the foundations of your world to the core. I don’t think years from now you’ll be sipping that first sip of an ice-cold beer after spending all afternoon building a deck with your own hands and working up a real, honest sweat as you take in a particularly golden sunset and think “Man, this is great. This is just like that one time I talked to that guy about his philosophy on managing young talent in a remote workplace environment.” I’m not 100%, absolutely delusional. There are things that are great. The unspoken connection you feel between you and your true love. Getting a haircut that actually compliments the shape of your head. Frosted Flakes.

Was it great to talk to me? Was it grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeat?! Seems pretty clear that you put “great” in there just to especially punctuate how, in reality, it was absolutely average to talk to me. What, was the eye roll emoji too much?

Jesus, man.

“I really enjoyed our chat.”

Is that what we did? Have a chat? Did we have a nice little casual chat about nice little casual things? I don’t know if you know this, but in our society, we need to pay for the things like housing and food. And the only way to pay for those things is to have a job like the one I was attempting to get from you in the 26 minutes that, as you already so cruelly pointed out, I took the time out of my completely empty, unemployed day to attempt to secure. I just literally took you through the biggest highlights of my professional career in a way that felt spontaneous and natural with just a touch of humble self-deprecation but that I actually got up at 6:00 in the damn morning to practice countless times.

But you had a “chat.” Nothing to see here. Move on. You’ve got bigger things to worry about like your big, fancy job that pays you a big, fancy salary so you don’t have to concern yourself with coming off as affable as possible to monsters like you.

Here’s something we can chat about: your privilege is showing.

I can’t bring myself to read any further. Honestly, I don’t really think I have to. You’ve said everything you came here to say. What else could you possibly add to wound me to the core while simultaneously brushing me off like an insignificant bug? I’ve met some sociopaths in my life, but you, sir, are a serial killer. You murdered my wife and you don’t even remember her name. There’s nothing else you could possibly hit me with that any judge in this country wouldn’t classify as a blatant disregard for human life.

“Thanks again”

Holy shit.

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