We held our Burns Night Supper early this year – on a Saturday evening, for obvious reasons. We’ve done our addresses to the Immortal Memory so often now that I felt I needed a new angle on it, and this is what I came up with, purely for fun!
To the immortal memory
Dear Mr Burns, or Rabbie as you instructed us to call you.
I’d like to thank you for attending the interview for the position of operative at our Swindon Amazon fulfilment centre (or cesaeg, as I think you referred to it at one point during our meeting. When I put that through Google translate it came up as cesspit; I’m sure there’s a mistake there) to which you arrived with two companions, both seemingly with the name Lassie, and both, if they will excuse the personal nature but I could not help noticing, pregnant!
I regret to inform you that your application on this occasion was not successful, and according to policy, I lay the reasons out below.
Your explanation for arriving two hours late, that you were erm, writing a Gaelic poem called Auld lang syne struck us as, well, a wee bit far fetched. Your attempt at a joke saying it meant time long past, did not amuse us. It was lunchtime!
Your work ethic is out of kilter with the company’s. You said that you wanted to work with Amazon because “the national prejudice of Scotsmen . . . have borne me to a height altogether untenable to my abilities.” That felt both self-aggrandising and negative. And your suggestion that Kevin, the line manager was a coof and a birkie, did not sit well, especially after we had it translated. Company policy does not deem that appropriate language in the team to a superior. You chose to aggravate matters by insisting that “The rank is but the guinea’s stamp.” That’s not how promotion is earned at our warehouse, sorry fulfilment centre.
Neither were we convinced by your assertion that to describe Kevin as a louse was a compliment, especially when you urged him to consider “O wad some Pow’r the giftie gie us / To see oursels as ithers see us!” which was at best we thought a double-edged invitation.
Which brings us onto your attitude to vermin! Not exactly in line with our health and safety policy (hygiene sections 2-18). Your suggestion that pest control is “murderin pattle”, likening it to imperialism saying “man’s dominion has broken nature’s social union,” and suggesting that the warehouse would be more suitable to mice who like it “cozie here, beneath the blast,” suggested to us that you might not fit in.
Finally, upon leaving the meeting you accosted Maureen on reception in a fashion that proved you incapable of conforming to our anti-harassment policy! You addressed her with the words, “Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee.”
Please be advised that should you seek access to the building going forward, the police will be called!
GreenPartyPoppy 