The Only Cover Letter I’ve Written That’s Actually Gotten Me A Job
To Whom It May Concern:
It is no exaggeration to say that the existence of your organization — nay, the entire internet — is about to irrevocably change for the better as a result of reading this email. Years from now, those at your company will divide their lives into two distinct categories: before reading the resume and cover letter of Matt Crowley, candidate for Freelance Copywriter, and after reading the resume and cover letter of Matt Crowley, candidate for Freelance Copywriter. As they gently sway in their rocking chairs in the sunset of their lives, your employees will recognize this as one of those rare, transformational moments. “I’d heard of a dream candidate before,” they’ll chuckle softly, “but I never really knew what one was until Matt Crowley.”
What is it that makes Matt Crowley such an ideal candidate? Is it his astounding experience working as a community manager for a top social media company for eight months? Is it his mind-blowing credentials as a produced playwright in New York City? Is it because he’s an energetic team player, because he’s the cat that won’t cop out when there’s danger all about, because he has too much respect for the intelligence of his prospective employers to ever plagiarize from a popular 1970s soundtrack?
Yes! Yes! A thousand times, yes! It’s all those things. But most of all, it’s the fact that Matt Crowley is here to serve you, whenever, wherever, however. Like the Oxford comma? He’s crazy about it. Don’t like it? Neither does he! Get out of here, you Limey bastard!
So when you’re pondering who’s got the goods to rock the Freelance Copywriter position, think Matt Crowley. It’s a name that just rolls off the tongue: Matt Crowley. It’s almost hypnotic, isn’t it? Matt Crowley. Matt Crowley. Matt Crowley.
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You had perfect almond eyes that were colored dark chocolate.
It was excruciating. I was so bored. All we did was hold the throttle and sit there. All the coffee in the world couldn’t have kept me aware and upbeat. I stared at my odometer. Miles passed so slowly while time raced on.
He holds my hand in his lap, looks me directly into the eyes and says, “I love you more than the amount of sperm a blue robin makes.”