Today, with a simple haircut, I started operation Tiger Fist.

art by Stuart Gormley

This is my codename for the all-out assault I have started on a poor, unsuspecting non-profit organization to which I have applied numerous times, been pseudo-rejected by once, and yet still continue to apply to.  The plan is simple: I relentlessly subject them to every single form of self-promotion I know of until them give me the job.  Tiger Fist leaves no room for failure.  This is war.

Phase one was the haircut.  I won’t post photos, but suffice to say it looks damn good.  I will combine this haircut with my suit, an expensive looking watch, and some new shoes (currently being airlifted in to the nearest heli-pad) to compliment my already impressive intellectual firepower.

Phase two starts tomorrow, when I will begin memorizing every minute detail of the company.  I will research and read every word ever written about them, and I might even write some of my own.  By Tuesday night, I will know more about the organization than most of their upper-level management does.  It will seem like I’ve worked there my whole life.  Like I was born in their break room.

Phase three completes the warm-up stage.  It involves the collection of all relevant clips and writing samples that I can muster of from the depths of my desk drawers and hard drives, and culminates in a gladiator-style battle between all clips until only the strongest survive and attain placement into the neatly marked envelope that I will submit, along with my revised resume, to the nonprofit staff.  I will bring five copies, to assure it will be read by at least three people.

Tiger Fist finishes on Friday, when I will burst into the offices unannounced, guns blazing, suited up in the nicest threads, spit freestyle fire from the volumes of my newly memorized company history, and basically force them to give me the job I want on the spot.  I’ll fill out my tax information that afternoon, and come back to start early Monday morning.

Tiger Fist.  It’s no joke.

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