My love affair with Uncommon Goods 2

Awhile back I applied to to a copywriting job at Uncommon Goods, a snazzy website in my old neighborhood of Sunset Park. My inquiry was typical, as was their reply.

When another position opened up in September, I applied again. But this time I decided, hey, if I won’t get hired, I might as well have fun.

I applied in April, and though my credentials were excellent, they did not match your needs at the time.

But now is another time. The summer is at its close, and you find yourselves once again in need of a vivacious copywriter. Perhaps the spring hire abandoned you, as such fleeting vernal romances so often end. Or perhaps you got everything you wished for and realized that was some sort of monkey’s paw. Regardless, here am I, the only one who stood by you, the only one who ever recognized Uncommon Goods for the real you inside. I was always here. You just had to say yes.

Say yes, Uncommon Goods. Say yes to your heart.

I bring with me witty banter and the location of the most delicious Chinese in Sunset Park (sadly, not near you. But at least in your hunger you’ll have my upbeat humor to console you). Anyway, if you need me to share my resume again, just ask.

yours forever,
Brendan McGinley

No reply. Then in November, another position opened up. So I decided to apply again.

Hello, you fine folks at Uncommon Goods. I see again you seek a copywriter. How much longer can you deny what you feel in your heart? We were meant to be together. Hire me, UncommonGoods, and let me make you the happiest catalog company in Brooklyn.

Say yes. Say yes. Say you don’t need me to share my resume with you again because you have it on file. This…this is destiny.

Brendan McGinley

This time, they wrote back:

Dear Brendan McGinley,

Thank you for thinking of us again and, unfortunately, we are still looking for a different set of skills and experience.

Wishing you best in your search.

Human Resources

Oh, Uncommon Goods, why do you break my heart so? And to think, that fickle site was still advertising for copywriters a few weeks later. I wrote them one last time.

Dear Uncommon Goods,

Baby, it’s over. I gave you everything. My time, care, and attention. I wanted us to be together always. But you wouldn’t have me. I see that now. While I’m working hard, there you are, sneaking onto Craigslist and posting for another copywriter.


I won’t stand in your way. You deserve the best. Just remember me from time to time. Now we have to go our separate ways. You stay special, Uncommon Goods. We could have had something great.

Brendan McGinley

I don’t want to get hurt no more.

2 thoughts on “My love affair with Uncommon Goods

  • UncommonGoods Copy Department

    Dear Brendan,

    It’s not that we don’t love you… it’s just that we see you as more of a friend than a full-time employee. You’re funny, and determined, and we’re going to assume that your eyes sparkle when you laugh. But we’re looking for more than just a well-turned phrase. We need a writer with some specific skills and work experience, you know? Sure, maybe we’re aiming too high–we’ve asked ourselves that a million times–but while we continue the hunt for Mr. or Ms. Write, we wish you all the best in your own career. You’ll find somebody else. We believe in you. And maybe we’ll run into each other in check-out every now and then.

    The UncommonGoods Copy Department