An Imagined Conversation

"Man, I am psyched to get this sandwich shop started!"
"Only two more days, Don. Exciting, huh?'
"You bet, Carl."

(awkward silence)

"Something wrong, Don?"
"Not really."
"Oh come on. You can tell me. We're business partners now, remember?"
"Well, it's just this, Carl. I don't really feel like we should call it a Sub Shop."
"Why the hell not?"
"You remember how I told you I went to culinary school in Passaic, right?"
"Oh my God. You mean to tell me you were lying?"
"No no no. Relax, Carl. Sit down. No, I totally went there. The thing is, when it came to sandwich making, I skipped out on the day they were teaching us how to build a real submarine sandwich."
"What were you doing?"
"I think 'Green Lantern' came out that day."
"That was a good movie."
"I hated it. Anyway, I never really learned how to make a proper sub, so I feel really awkward putting the actual word SUB SHOP outside."
"What was to hate about 'Green Lantern?' Ryan Reynolds was totally badass."
"So that's why I feel so uncertain about actually calling what we make 'subs.'"
"I mean, the love interest between him and Blake Lively was nonexistent for the most part."
"In fact, the mechanical way we make these sandwiches reminds me of a goddamned factory."
"And it's pretty unnatural to hire Blake Lively– who's a stunning blonde– and make her a brunette. That's just like when they hired Jessica Alba– a stunning brown-eyed brunette– and did the inverse for those godawful 'Fantastic Four' movies."
"You know what, Carl? I'd feel a lot better if we put the word 'sub' in quotes. But maybe put a space between each quote and the word 'sub' so that customers don't think I'm being sarcastic. Yeah."
"What are we talking about, again?"

"Lean Somewhere Else, Jagoff."

Pictured above, J'Net attempts to pay for a parking space around some dude who's cold cold lampin'.

An Old Document From My Chicago Days

The following letter was submitted to the creative recruiter of a Chicago ad agency by a "Heather M." looking for a job as junior copywriter. Needless to say, it was not your standard cover letter.

Click to read. It's *totally* worth it.



So everyone in the creative department had a good laugh over Heather's absurd letter, from the very opening sentence "When we DIE" to "Another touch of pink next to that green, please." Even the sign off, instead of a simple "Sincerely," there's that fantastic pseudo-haiku. Truly an unintentional work of comic genius.

But the thing was, we wanted to tell this girl that a cover letter like that would SCARE prospective employers away; it was just way too artsy and out there. So we wanted to give her this constructive criticism without revealing our identity. The solution: call Heather from a cell phone with a blocked number and play a message using text-to-speech. The message sounded a lot like this.

We called the number, left the mysterious message on her voicemail, and let the universe correct itself. We never heard from Heather again.

We did, however, receive an excellent piece of art based on the infamous letter, created by the ad agency's own PRESIDENT! We were astonished that he had taken the time to make it:


Holy Lord. We all had a lot of free time back then.

Curious.