The cover letter I would submit if honesty and self-deprecation were conducive to employment
To Whom It May Concern: You should give me a job, even though you shouldn’t
To Whom It May Concern:
My name is Jenny Kutner, and I write to you to express my interest in an entry-level position at your company. I saw a post for this position on an online job board this morning, after I clicked one of the seventeen links my mother sent me today as part of our ongoing email thread, “Re: Trying to help you help yourself.” I recently graduated from the University of Texas at Austin, where I pursued an interdisciplinary liberal arts degree meant to “teach me how to think.” It is about as likely that you have ever heard of the “renowned” program from which I graduated as it is that I will ever have dental insurance (which is to say, not very). That is, not very likely unless I take the time to explain my degree in this cover letter, which—by the way—I will send to nine other companies after I hit “submit” on this online form.
Contrary to what its name implies, my major—Plan II—is neither a form of emergency contraception nor a program specifically designed for students who took enough hallucinogenic drugs and/or F’s in their courses to be kicked out of “Plan I.” Plan II is a core curriculum of breadth and depth—“a Renaissance education for the twenty-first century,” if you will—and as a Plan II Honors student, I participated in countless seminar discussions without doing the reading; took several natural science courses that required essays; and made A’s in my classes not because I worked hard, but because my ability to talk my way out of things was once again rewarded in an environment of unchecked grade inflation.
My undergraduate education strongly emphasized creative problem-solving, which I mastered while completing a year-long capstone thesis project—in one week—this past April. I bring up my thesis because it illustrates that, well, I wrote a thesis. I am no longer sure what my research detailed, because my brain is fried from the taxing project as well as all of the margaritas I ingested once I finished writing. My thesis did win a cash prize (for creativity, if you would believe it), which I immediately spent on shoes. In all, I believe my aptitude for “research” and my liberal arts education have sharpened my natural abilities—specifically, my abilities to use bombastic diction convincingly, produce articulate writing at the last second, and offer critical thoughts on matters about which I know absolutely nothing. I believe all of these capabilities would make me an exceptional new hire at your company, despite the fact that I am all but completely overqualified for this role.
My intrinsic talents will be especially helpful to me in this position, I believe, as my past experience is overwhelmingly not applicable to any role at your company. I will, of course, tell you about my previous work anyway. I currently work as an unpaid intern at a well-known news media site; before that, I worked as a research assistant to a writer for a prominent magazine, who just finished a book about dogs. Both jobs have required me to amass a diverse and bizarre array of knowledge that I mostly acquire from, um, the Internet. Previously, I worked as a consultant at my university’s writing center, where I was not allowed to express any honest opinions or offer commentary that was not phrased as a question. As a result, I have developed an uncanny ability to correct improper comma usage with the Socratic method, while simultaneously stifling a desire to self-harm in the break room. I have also worked as an administrative assistant and receptionist for the last two years—roles that have required me to spend an inordinate amount of time Facebook-stalking myself and occasionally forgetting to answer the phone.
In spite of my honesty, I lied earlier in this letter: I do not believe that I would make an excellent choice as one of your company’s new employees, but I believe I should be making more than $0 per hour. It is likely that I will make a number of mistakes in my role at your company, but I assure you that I will make up for those mistakes by producing stellar work every once in a while. I will complete most of that work after thinking about the project at hand for an extended period of time during which is just looks like I’m on Pinterest, or for approximately ten minutes. I can promise you this: you and the rest of the staff will find me infinitely more impressive than I think I really am.
So, please, just give me this job. I need a stepping-stone so I can one day be your boss, which is the job I subconsciously feel I deserve. If you would, in fact, like to extend this opportunity, please feel free to send me an email at my university email address. If not, I will not be surprised, but I will probably curse your company before I go get drunk and cry in my bathtub—partly because I paid thousands of dollars for a college degree, but more because each month I pay an excessive sum of money that I don’t really have in order to live in my shoebox-sized closet of an apartment, in a neighborhood on the threshold of gentrification.
Thank you in advance for your time and consideration. I will be putting all of my eggs in this basket and anxiously awaiting further contact from you.
Truly,
Jenny Kutner
