AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have no idea who exactly it was that made me fire off this little missive. I completely forgot having written this, but as I read it back it's pretty funny in a mean-spirited sort of way. Enjoy!
Hey New Guy! Thanks so much for sharing all your great ideas with us. I know that you being here for 16 business hours makes you think that you’re now an expert in all things, and that you alone can see the answers to the great Imponderable questions of our business. But look around. See us all here? All us employees who have been here for years? Guess what: we haven’t just been sitting here with one thumb in our mouth, the other in our ass, just waiting for YOU to come along and holler “switch.” We know what the fuck we’re doing. We’ve done it for quite some time. The same stupid suggestions you think are so profound we’ve all thought of and discarded during an enthusiastic shit five years ago.
Do you think for one moment that your single-digit-day tenure with this place makes you qualified to make suggestions as to how to steer this company? We all take your suggestions with a certain forced benign good cheer, and even compliment you on your creative “out of the box” thinking. Well here’s a little something for you to chew on, sport: when you leave, we laugh at you and your ridiculous, infantile suggestions. We’ve forgotten more about how to run this company than a newbie like you will ever learn. You won’t stay with the company – you’ll be gone in nine months, and three years from now, we’ll be having lunch together and looking back on all the ridiculous little men and women with their polished shoes and day planners that have come parading through these doors only to parade themselves right back out again – and we’ll be laughing at you all over again. Some one of our number is going to start the conversation with “any of you guys remember what’s-his-name, the guy with all the ideas? What a fucking tool that guy was! What was his name, anyway?”
And we won’t know, or care. Because, Overenthusiastic New Guy, you think that you’re the savior of this place, but the reality is, you ain’t worth a fart in a windstorm to us. The sooner you get that through your immaculately coiffed head, the better off you’ll be.