Welcome to the school of shitty networking. There will be future courses, but here's an intro.
I receive messages on nearly every social media platform (even Tinder) from people trying to get a job. Some are fine, and I just ignore them. Some are spineless, or insane, or so terribly written they read like a pregnant teenager's cryptic Facebook status, and I share them with people who need a laugh.
Since I'm financially successful, handsome, and amazing at my job, it's only natural that noobs want to reach out to me and get a piece of what I've got. I get it. If you went to a non-target school, or you lack the social skills to make connections in the appropriate ways, or you're just plain dumb and can't get hired, desperation might set in and lead you to do something like send a pleading Linkedin message.
Unfortunately for these idiots, I hate that shit and I'll mock them mercilessly for it. Needless to say, I'm not going to include any personal info because I'm not a god damn monster, but I invite you to imagine the type of beta weasel that would send the following, which I received a couple years ago and saved for future enjoyment:
"Dear Fear the Bulge,"
Don't say "dear," it's gay.
"I hope you remember me from [redacted] Weekend in 2011. It was way cool meeting you. Remember how you showed me the proper way to shotgun a beer? I still do, and it's become a daily ritual for me."
Cool. I'm glad wasting beer has become a daily ritual, hardass.
"So I can see from Facebook (lame, right?)"
"that you are working at [redacted] now and pretty clearly banging hot chicks left and right as a result."
Look dude, yes, working at a big bank and crushing it is an advantage in getting with women, but I'm also very good looking and not socially retarded. This addition is unnecessary and creepy as hell.
"I want what you have, and I know this might be kind of random and weird, but I'm just reaching out to you and asking for it."
Asking for what? To bang my sloppy seconds? Get to the point, dweeb.
It's a lot to ask and if not I totally urndersand [sic]. It'd be so tight to work with you when I graduate in the spring and if you play your cards right, I might even have an ounce of dank for you as a thank you."
Oh what an honor it is to be not only your sole Wall Street connection (using a definition of that word that's looser than your mom's vagina), but also the beneficiary of your shitty basement grow operation. No, no, no.
"You rock, man. Thanks in advance for your help. [name redacted]"
So what became of this guy? Well, he wears a hat in every picture, which leads me to believe he's already balding at 24. He works at a Toyota dealership and has a girlfriend named "Aslynne."
And while I don't feel personally responsible for any of that, if I had managed to get him a job, maybe I'd have this complete pussy to cover the shit I don't want to do without complaint, and maybe, just maybe, I'd be getting free dank nugs on the reg. Too bad.
Moral is, there's a better way to network than to creepily kiss someone's ass and offer them weed. Stay tuned for future installments.
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