For those who do not know, my day job involves writing educational materials for middle and high schoolers. I started doing this job at a New York based company that shall be pseudonymously known as SOQ. SOQ was the kind of place that sucked creative people into its web and kept them there until they were on the verge of implosion.

Now, I made some great friends there, and it actually turned out to be a pretty good gig for me that landed me in a nice little niche in which I am still working to this day. I can say this because I was only there for about a year before moving to Los Angeles. Some, however, were not so lucky. Recently, one of the old stalwarts in the production department, who shall be known as Tom Monkey, left the company and sent out the following email to everyone in the company:

Peers:

I am sorry to do this to you so soon after the loss of your beloved “Q-man”. [editor's note: I do not understand this reference.]

It is with no sadness that I tell you that today is my last day at SOQ. Thank you all for a wonderful 7.5 years. Some of you may be asking yourself, how is it that this “Tom Monkey” has been working here for 7.5 years and I do not know him? Well, I am constructed of the very same materials used in our nation’s finest military technology. Your radar cannot find me. I have, to my knowledge, never been promoted, never received a significant raise and therefore, have never been laid off. I have attended as few meetings as possible, pursued no office romances and attended approximately two company parties. My pursued anonymity in no way suggests that I haven’t done incredible work here, because, as any of my numerous bosses whom I’ve outlasted will attest, I am perhaps one of the BEST COMPOSITORS OF SIMULATED STANDARDIZED TESTS THIS COMPANY HAS EVER SEEN (their words not mine), AND IT IS A SHAME TO SEE HIM GO (again, not my words). My only fear is that my departure will have a “Jenga” like effect on the rest of the company, and I would hate for that to happen. Stay strong!

Although I am moving on to a job that will challenge me intellectually and creatively like never before, not to mention make me wealthier than I could have ever hoped, I will truly miss the blissful monotony of churning out standardized tests for third graders in Virginia and the power that comes with it. The trenches of educational testing are no place for the weak, and the men and women whom I’ve been fortunate enough to serve with in the SOQ Army were courageous enough to teach me to never, under any circumstances, leave a child behind.

So I humbly thank you, SOQ, for allowing me to bonsai my intellect, soul, and wallet for nearly a decade in pursuit of the noble if not unrealistic ideal that EVERY CHILD CAN ACHIEVE!!

Yours,

Tom Monkey

Tom Monkey has a hilarious blog that you should check out at your earliest convenience.

Incidentally, his email made me retrieve my own goodbye email. It seems to be the sort of place that demands a ridiculous final email. Sadly, I did not have the balls to send it to the entire company. However, among the people who did receive it, I was pleased to hear several people comment: “I really didn’t get to know you at all.”

Dear SOQ:

As I sit in my lonely cubicle, staring out into the blank void of the future, I am suddenly struck by the reality that I will soon be leaving you for good. This is extremely sad for me, but perhaps more importantly, it is extremely sad for you.

Will you miss me when I’m gone, SOQ? And what of our late night chats, our tender morning kisses, our wet t-shirt contests? Will I ever again look over at K—— in the midst of our morning calisthenics and share a private laugh at the expense of the fat chick in leg warmers? Is this truly the end of my ink fights with R——, my Indian wrestling matches with E——, my fax/copier jam sessions with D——?

What will you say about me when I leave, SOQ? Will my picture make it onto the bulletin board of shame? I hope you know that there will always be a special place reserved for you in the bulletin board of shame in my heart.

We’ve had a lot of laughs, SOQ, and a lot of special moments that I will not embarrass you by recounting right now. I fondly recall our initial, sweaty-palmed fumblings in the back of the locker room, long after the crowd had gone home, our faces illuminated by an emergency glow stick stolen from the custodian’s closet. I knew from the moment I first laid eyes on you in the ball court at McDonalds that you and I were meant to be together. I remember holding your legs on the beach, your blossoming chest pressed lasciviously against the sun umbrella, furiously trying to rescue it from the petty thievery of an errant gull. We truly fell in love that day, did we not, SOQ? Washing the seagull shit out of your hair later, we embraced, as I recall, and slowly lowered ourselves to the kitchen floor, below the sight line of the prying cameraman stationed at the window.

I am leaving you, SOQ, but I hope you know that I will always cherish you as a squirrel cherishes a field of buried acorns that have been destroyed by a well-meaning-yet-misguided rototiller. You will be in my every waking thought from here on out, driving me mad, yet somehow, simultaneously, keeping me sane. You are not only a lover to me, but a friend, a mother, a father, and a drunken uncle. I cannot be with you forever, SOQ, but I would appreciate it if we could still hook-up every so often, no strings attached, preferably at my place. And don’t stay too long, I’ve got another educational testing firm coming over later.

Ciao,
Dinsmore