Background Check This

Dear Julie,
Thank you for your interest in working with the F------n Personnel Agency. Due to the tremendous volume of inquiries we are answering you with this e-mail.

We have carefully reviewed your qualifications and unfortunately at this time we have no suitable openings. We will retain your resume on file for future reference.

Again, thank you for your interest and the opportunity to review your background. Best wishes to you in your endeavors.

F------n Personnel Agency

Dear Miss F------n,
You are obviously the heavy lidded, Ecstasy-eating, College Age Daughter of some Deep-Pocketed Blowhard I imagine would own this sort of Big Deal Santa Monica Temp Agency. I bet you’re not too happy having been appointed part-time form letter envelope licker and all, since you'd really hoped to spend the summer hanging out with Paris Hilton behind Carl's Jr. soaping up Bentleys in your underpants.

I'm writing to inquire if the old man has recently checked your offices for mold. I heard where it can be a real problem over in your part of town, what with the fishy mist coming off the white water ocean views, and the floor-to-ceiling office windows hermetically sealed to keep the jumpers at bay. These factors may well be conspiring to deplete your oxygen supply, the only reasonably acceptable excuse for your writing me such an ill-informed, disingenuous and thoroughly odious piece of correspondence.

Since you advertise daily in The Hollywood Reporter, this absence of "suitable openings" to which you refer must surely be centered in the entertainment industry. While delving into the deep recesses of my background as you did, you may have skimmed over the part where I have a Bachelor's Degree in English and Theater, a Master's Degree in Film and Television, and fifteen years experience in global travel and lifestyle publishing. Were it not summer break, you're bound to have discovered, I'd be serving as adjunct faculty at the Big Deal Film School from which you and any number of your friends are certain to have been rejected. Had you truly "carefully reviewed my qualifications," you would have also learned that I write, speak and touch type in three foreign languages, though in all humility I can only claim a passing knowledge of Serbo-Croatian and a basic understanding of HTML.

You should also know that I have met The Pope. Not that new guy with the weight problem they've been trotting out lately, I'm talking about the good one, with whom I was able to volley a few words of Polish many years before somebody else had to start holding up his head.

I rode beside the French Minister of Tourism in a private boat through Pirates of the Caribbean at Disneyland Paris. He later took me to dinner in London by way of the newly Christened Chunnel, where he apologized profusely for the lowly quality of British cuisine, promising something much more haute upon our return.

I have viewed the eerily well-preserved body of Eva Peron, lying in state all these years in a remote Buenos Aires cemetery. Yes, she is still wearing Dior.

I once hi-jacked the horse-drawn carriage of Queen Sonja of Norway. There was a light rain falling over the Fjords, if you must know, and Her Royal Highness preferred to take the limo while I chatted up a Strapping Young Horseman who'd slipped me the eye. Along the way to the Bergen summer castle, where we were to dine on salmon, caviar and cloudberry tarts, I waved at throngs of my perplexed but nonetheless enthusiastic subjects lining the streets.

While my resume may have omitted some of these more colorful items for the sake of brevity, I assure you I am highly capable of performing your typical Big Hollywood Temp Assignment. I believe I've proven here, for starters, my ability to write an appropriate letter, one which reflects a certain je ne sais quois you're unlikely to find among the crowd you run with up at the Malibu Colony Macaroni Grill.

You can only imagine my way with fielding high volume phone calls, what with my demonstrated wit, charm and grace under the pressure of being unemployed and unemployable in this ridiculous town over these last months despite my remarkable talent for making and serving coffee. I have done this not only on farms in the Puerto Rican El Yunque rainforest and the Blue Mountains of Jamaica—but also among the migrant camel wranglers of coastal Turkey, who like it boiled into a syrup with an unholy dose of sugar. Boy, those Whirling Dervishes are a loopy bunch. I'd prefer going back to apricot farming on a Galilean kibbutz any day of the week.

Review that background, babe. My guess is your girl Paris will be devoting much more energy to finding a new pal to publicly humiliate on The Simple Life after the fragrance and nightclub businesses hit the skids and her Nazi boyfriend dumps her bony ass for Tara Reid. So please, let me be the one to wish you the best in your future endeavors.

Yours very truly,


  1. I just keep coming back and reading, coming back and reading. Gets better every time. You're too good for this crap, Julie.

  2. Aren't we all? Thanks for your nice words. Sometimes that's just what I need to keep writing, a voice in the dark that says, I, for one, am listening.

  3. OH MY GOD! I can't believe two years later I got the EXACT SAME LETTER!!