Someone dear to me who shall remain nameless was recently spammed at work by the resumé of a person I’ll call Mr. K. Though the spelling and grammatical errors grated and the cover letter’s promise to add value to the company rankled, it was the sheer number of emails that finally got my friend’s proverbial goat. After about fifty copies cluttered his inbox, he wrote back to Mr. K.

Dear Mr. K:

We may indeed have a position befitting your unique set of skills, positive attitude, professionalism, dedication, work ethic, ad nauseum.

Please report first thing tomorrow morning to our corporate headquarters at 69 Reade Street, New York, for an interview. We are always on the lookout for personnel of your caliber and persistence.

Everyone visiting Way Huge Software Company (Swollen Pickle Division) receives a token of our appreciation for visiting and interviewing with us.

Cordially,

I.P. Freely

The guy wrote back, “When would you like me to come in?”

No shit.

Okay, the guy could be forgiven for not knowing that 69 Reade Street was an abandoned building that had collapsed that morning. And obviously, the name of the company didn’t tip him off. He was sending that resumé out willy-nilly without noting where and to whom he’d emailed already. How do I know this?

He kept sending it. Finally, an IT guy had to block Mr. K’s emails to the entire department.

I hope he didn’t have his heart set on that t-shirt.