Here's the job that that gopher-brained bag of bad smell Fitzhugh Toadvine applied for:
The British Columbia Ferry Corporation is one of the largest ferry operations in the world. The Operations Department is responsible for the management of numerous terminal facilities and a fleet of over 40 vessels.
The position of Terminal Agent, Horseshoe Bay is responsible to the Area Operations Manager to manage a very large ferry terminal in a safe and efficient manner.
The successful candidate will have extensive experience in terminal operations, preferably in a marine transport environment. Excellent communication, managerial, administrative and analytical skills are essential. Public relations or conflict resolution training is desirable. A participatory management style is essential.
A comprehensive salary and benefit plan is offered for this position. Resumes should be forwarded by October 8 to the attention of:
British Columbia Ferry Corporation
1112 Fort Street
Victoria, British Columbia
Here's his letter, the nose-picking, obnoxious little tool:
Enclosed, please find my resume in response to your
search for a Terminal Agent.
For a person who is job-seeking in today's competitive environmment, I am compelled to express how much more difficult that task becomes when the requirements favour certain applicalnts over others. I will say it now. I am, I believe, in good health
From a humanitarian viewpoint, I respect your decision to hire an Agent who is terminal. Some people deserve a break, and dying job applicants certainly fall into that category. However, I feel strongly that there are many others out there like me who honestly feel like they're going to cash in at any moment, and are equally worthy of your consideration.
Let me illustrate this point with a personal anecdote: After the Sons of Guernsey Annual Sheep Decorating social each October 30th (the only event at which I will consume homemade refreshments), I typically lose consciousness shortly after the speeches, and usually lay stiff as a stump throughout the entire awards presentation. I am told that exactly three years ago this month, I blacked out in the midst of the Ewe Face Painting Bee. After being "sullied" by an amorous Merino ram (or so they say), I assumed the fetal position and had no detectable pulse until shortly after my birthday in March, when I uncurled into full consciousness at the sound of my wife Pam's voice as she talked back to the television while watching "WWF Wrestling" on TSN. By my calculation, that is an uninterrupted period of almost five months when even the most case-hardened coroner would have declared me an ideal candidate for the position of Terminal Agent with BC Ferries.
The responsibilities of Terminal Agent appear to fit me perfectly, were it not for this small blemish in my qualifications. Would you consider re-defining the position so that I might apply as a candidate for a Not Feeling Well Agent, or perhaps a Projectile Vomiting Agent? I believe that I could easily win the job in a walk.
I look forward to your call ... preferably by October 29th, if at all possible.
wise people at BC Ferries
had the good sense not to hire him. Here's their reply:
|Dear Mr. Toadvine:
Thank you for your original and refreshing reply to our advertisement for applications to the position of Terminal Agent at Horseshoe Bay. I am sure that none of us will ever view the title in quite the same light again!
The Operations Manager for the area and I have reviewed your application and given it careful consideration. I am sure you will agree that it is entirely appropriate for an Operations Manager to assess the applications for Terminal Agent.
However, because of the large number of respondents, we have identified a slate of candidates whose qualifications and experience more closely meet the requirements for the position and consequently you have not been selected for interview.
In closing, I would like to say that we are very pleased to hear that you are not terminal, but suggest that you should probably stop smoking whatever it is you are using, so that you don't become so.
We wish you well in your future career.
October 22, 1999
© copyright Don Magor 1999, 2000 all rights reserved