Resumes and cover letters aren’t my thing. But if that’s how you do it then that’s how you do it. Here’s my resume. Here’s my cover letter. The subcontracting situation that I’m proposing, well, it already exists. I just want to let you in on it. You and I are business partners already. You’ve been putting shoes on my kids’ feet for six months now.
When I was growing up, there were days when the milk ran out. I didn’t know what it meant that I ate my Captain Crunch with cola at the end of the month. I didn’t know what it meant that we ate Kraft Dinner every day for lunch. Fuck, man. I loved that stuff. It wasn’t until my sister and I got a bit older, and we didn’t have a Nintendo, and we didn’t have a Super Nintendo. We didn’t have a Genesis.
I wasn’t like my sister, though. I didn’t blame my mom for that. I could see how hard she was working to get us what we needed, without a dad around. Not a lot of kids would have been able to see through their own shit, but how do you put that on a resume? I guess that’s why you need a cover letter. Well, here’s mine. I made friends, and when I didn’t have a Gameboy, I took someone else’s.
Now I’m twenty four, and I make my money the way I make my money. A large part of that is you. A cellphone could always catch you a few bucks, but it used to be luck of the draw. Now it’s all changed. Now you can’t walk downtown without passing twenty or thirty people, all sporting the little white headphones, advertising that they’re packing a thousand dollar piece of equipment in those pockets. You got billboards all over the place, making that shit into fashion.
So, you and me, Apple, we’re working together already.
Excerpted from Overqualifieder.