Everybody, sell your body to the man

I've recently been through that horrible, horrible process of trying to land a job. Again. And it seems that every time I try it, the whole thing finds a new, innovative way to suck.

A short disposition may be in order: I sent my application, got called in to an interview, screwed it up a bit by being too nervous, and didn't really expect to get the job. And I didn't. But the thing that really hit a nerve was the way of the rebuff: I was told I "didn't manage to sell myself" to their satisfaction. OK, time out. What?

I was supposed to sell myself?

Call me old fashioned, call me naive, but I actually thought the point of an interview was for the prospective employer to gain some insight into the personality of the prospective employee, in order to decide whether he or she would be right for the job in question. But apparently, the people responsible for hiring new people have all been given the title of "Executive Pimp". When did this happen?

I'll be the first to admit that it's obviously easier holding a dick-sucking contest (possibly replacing the actual dicks with similarly shaped household objects) and letting the winner get the position, than to actually figure out if the person is who (s)he says (s)he is, but it still seems kinda cheap to me. So I decided to give it a go myself. After careful consideration, I chose to not send the following in response to the rude rejection, but I see no reason not to share it with you lot. So, here's me, selling myself:

Dear sirs and sirettes,
you have chosen to turn down my application for [the position]. This is a mistake. You say you've found two persons whom you believe will fit your team. You are wrong. Let me enlighten you as to why:

The truth is, one of the persons you're about to hire has no work ethics. They will rip open a deck of cards as soon as you're not looking. Surely, you must have noticed, during their "interview", their eyes darting nervously from side to side, looking desperately for the exit in case you should happen to see through their lies. And what lies! Did you know, dear sirs and sirettes, that the persons you have chosen to hire is widely known for their furniture-chewing habits? I, on the other hand, have never chewed on a single piece of furniture in my life. Not even a table!

So, dear sirs and sirettes, perhaps you should reconsider your decision. After all, would you rather hire an infamous furniture-chewer? Or a man widely regarded by friends, family, and even far-flung relatives as the most efficient worker who has ever lived, and who has never chewed anything that nature did not create specifically for chewing? The answer should, by now, be obvious.

Awaiting your shameful apologies with graceful mercy,
Mr. the Sleeper.