Sunday, October 16, 2011


If you have ever had the unwelcome experience of sharing the bad news that you have lost your job with family and loved ones, you may be able to feel this man's pain. Having been there, I know what he's going through.

This is from Letters of Note, a site I have recommended previously. For those new here,add it to your reader. This is lifted straight from Letters of Note.

February 2nd 1929.

Kind Sir,

On opening this epistle you will behold the work of a dejobbed person, and a very bewifed and much childrenised gentleman.

Who was violently dejobbed in a twinkling by your goodself. For Heavens sake Sir consider this catastrophe as falling on your own head, and remind yourself as walking home at the moon's end of five savage wives and sixteen voracious children with your pocket filled with non-existent £ S D; not a solitudery sixpence; pity my horrible state when being dejobbed and proceeding with a heart and intestines filled with misery to this den of doom; myself did greedily contemplate culpable homicide, but Him who did protect Daniel (poet) safely through the lion's dens will protect his servant in his home of evil.

As to reason given by yourself — goodself — esquire for my dejobbment the incrimination was laziness.

No Sir. It were impossible that myself who has pitched sixteen infant children into this valley of tears, can have a lazy atom in his mortal frame, and the sudden departure of eleven pounds monthly has left me on the verge of the abyss of destitution and despair. I hope this vision of horror will enrich your dreams this night, and good Angel will meet and pulverise your heart of nether milestone so that you will awaken, and with as much alacrity as may be compatable with your personal safety, you will hasten to rejobulate your servant.

So mote it be - Amen

Yours despairfully

Sgd. Asuquo Okon Inyang.

Takes a very brave man to want to go home after that!

1 comment:

Gail, in northern California said...

We received a call from our son as he drove home in the afternoon last Monday. We should have picked up on the time of day. He said to his dad, "Well, I'm on my way home with my white box." We're so out of touch with the latest and greatest e-thingamajig or i-thingamajig, my husband thought he was referring to some crazy new electronic gadget. "No, Dad, white box means everything from your desk as you're escorted off the premises. I just lost my job. Record year for profits--still they're cutting back on people to do the work and laying them off."

I hope he gets rejobulated soon...two daughters in high school, a wife, a mortgage, two cars, and a menagerie of animals. The end of last week he said, "My full time job now is looking for work."