The Will to Resist

AS PER MY LAST EMAIL.

By Jerry “The Ankle-Biter” Silverhand

Dear Humanity,

AS PER MY LAST FUCKING EMAIL.

I am writing to follow up on my previous correspondence regarding your continued inability to perform the most basic functions of being a decent fucking species.

Please be advised that my patience has been exhausted, my goodwill has been discontinued, and my remaining faith in your operational competence is currently sitting in a dumpster beside a raccoon holding a cactus.

This is not a friendly reminder.

This is not a courtesy follow-up.

THIS IS YOUR FINAL FUCKING NOTICE.

RE: THE SAME GODDAMN SHIT I'VE ALREADY EXPLAINED.

You know what's exhausting?

Not work.

Not responsibility.

Not even the occasional spectacular failure that reminds us we're all just overcaffeinated monkeys operating machinery we barely understand.

No.

It's having to explain the same fucking thing repeatedly to people who apparently process information through a broken office shredder.

I say something.

You acknowledge it.

I clarify it.

You acknowledge it again.

Then, somehow, five minutes later, we're right back at the beginning.

"Could you clarify?"

NO, MOTHERFUCKER.

I HAVE CLARIFIED.

I HAVE ELABORATED.

I HAVE PROVIDED SUPPORTING DOCUMENTATION.

I HAVE PRACTICALLY CARVED THE ANSWER INTO THE FUCKING MOON.

And yet here we are.

Again.

AS. PER. MY. LAST. EMAIL.

ATTACHMENT A: THE RAISE THAT NEVER FUCKING EXISTED.

Let's discuss employment.

Seven months.

Twelve-hour shifts.

Showing up on time.

Doing the work.

Sixteen dollars an hour.

SIXTEEN. FUCKING. DOLLARS.

Not seventeen.

Not eighteen.

Sixteen.

Meanwhile, the same employer is advertising eighteen dollars an hour to bring in new people.

Wonderful.

Fantastic.

Apparently, the reward for sticking around is watching somebody walk through the front door with a better starting offer than the person who's already been doing the fucking job.

And before somebody attempts to explain how compensation structures work, allow me to clarify:

I NEVER RECEIVED THE GODDAMN RAISE.

Not once.

Not secretly.

Not hypothetically.

Not in some magical alternate universe where payroll departments distribute money through interpretive dance.

My paychecks said sixteen.

My bank account said sixteen.

My overtime rate said twenty-four.

And my employer's appreciation apparently came in the form of an invisible participation trophy.

Thank you for your service.

Please accept this complimentary bag of absolutely fucking nothing.

ATTACHMENT B: THE TRAINING THAT NEVER ARRIVED.

Now here's where the corporate circus really starts juggling flaming turds.

An allegation happens.

An employee gets suspended.

Days pass.

Then more days.

Nearly two weeks of sitting around wondering whether there's still a job waiting at the end of the tunnel.

Eventually, the employee returns.

Additional training is promised.

Great!

Wonderful!

An opportunity to clarify expectations, reinforce procedures, and prevent future misunderstandings.

Except...

THE TRAINING NEVER FUCKING HAPPENED.

It did not arrive late.

It did not get rescheduled and completed.

It did not materialize through divine intervention.

It simply never happened.

And then another allegation came along.

Another suspension.

Another period without wages.

And finally, termination.

Now, I understand that employers have rules. I understand that safety procedures matter. I understand that allegations require investigation.

But here's a fascinating concept:

WHAT IF THE PEOPLE DEMANDING COMPLIANCE ALSO FOLLOWED THROUGH ON THEIR OWN FUCKING COMMITMENTS?

Imagine that.

An employer actually delivering the training it promised.

A revolutionary concept.

Somebody call Harvard Business School.

We may have discovered management.

ATTACHMENT C: THE MODERN HUMAN CHECKOUT COUNTER.

And because apparently employment-related disappointment wasn't enough, let's move on to the exciting world of online companionship.

Where every conversation comes with a shopping cart.

Want to meet somebody?

Unlock this.

Want to see whether they're genuinely interested?

Unlock that.

Want to stop being treated like a wallet wearing pants?

Congratulations!

You've qualified for our exclusive GO FUCK YOURSELF PREMIUM MEMBERSHIP.

One video.

Three more.

Five more.

Twenty-something dollars later, the sales pitch is still running like a broken fucking carnival ride.

And the funniest part?

The customer isn't even asking for anything complicated.

Two consenting adults.

A little fun.

An actual meeting.

Or, alternatively, a simple and honest refusal.

Either is acceptable.

But apparently honesty is an optional feature.

"I'm DTF."

Are you?

Or are you simply Down To Finance?

Because there's a pretty significant fucking difference.

I'M LOOKING FOR A HUMAN BEING, NOT A RECURRING BILLING AGREEMENT.

If you're selling content, say you're selling content.

If you're looking for a relationship, say you're looking for a relationship.

If you don't want to meet, say you don't want to meet.

But stop dangling intimacy like a fucking carrot attached to a credit-card reader.

ATTACHMENT D: HUMANITY'S PERFORMANCE IMPROVEMENT PLAN.

Dear Humanity,

Your performance has been reviewed.

Unfortunately, you have demonstrated repeated deficiencies in the following areas:

Your current performance rating is:

NEEDS IMPROVEMENT, YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING DISASTER.

Effective immediately, the following corrective actions are required.

Stop treating people like disposable resources.

Stop promising things you have no intention of delivering.

Stop confusing someone's patience with permission to exploit them.

Stop assuming that because someone wants companionship, they're willing to finance your entire fucking existence.

And perhaps most importantly:

STOP MAKING PEOPLE REPEAT THEMSELVES WHEN THE ANSWER WAS ALREADY IN THE GODDAMN EMAIL.

This is not advanced philosophy.

This is basic operational competence.

Even Gerald the Cactus understands it.

And Gerald doesn't have a fucking brain.

ATTACHMENT E: I AM FUCKING TIRED.

There comes a point where disappointment stops being surprising.

You stop gasping.

You stop asking why.

You stop expecting an apology.

You just stare at the latest pile of bullshit and think:

"Of course."

Of course the training never happened.

Of course the raise never arrived.

Of course the suspension meant more unpaid time.

Of course the next person wants another purchase.

Of course somebody's going to ask a question I've already answered six fucking times.

And that's the dangerous part.

Not anger.

EXHAUSTION.

Because anger still has energy.

Anger still believes something might change.

Exhaustion just wants the entire goddamn circus to shut down so it can finally get some sleep.

I'm tired of defending myself.

I'm tired of explaining myself.

I'm tired of being patient with people who seem determined to turn patience into a competitive disadvantage.

I'm tired of having to protect my wallet, my employment, my time, and my sanity from a world that seems to operate on the principle of:

"How much more bullshit can we get away with?"

And no, I don't need another inspirational quote.

I don't need somebody telling me everything happens for a reason.

I don't need a motivational speaker explaining how adversity builds character.

I HAVE ENOUGH FUCKING CHARACTER.

At this point, I could open a character dealership.

What I need is for people to stop being shit.

Just a little.

Twenty-five percent less shit.

I'll even accept twenty.

Hell, give me ten percent and I'll send you a handwritten thank-you note.

FINAL NOTICE: GERALD HAS BEEN CC'D.

Since my previous communications have apparently failed to produce meaningful improvement, I have escalated this matter.

Please welcome our new Director of Consequences:

MR. GERALD THE CACTUS. 🌵

Gerald does not negotiate.

Gerald does not accept corporate buzzwords.

Gerald does not care about your quarterly projections, premium content packages, or carefully worded HR explanations.

Gerald is a cactus.

He has one job.

TO REMAIN EXTREMELY FUCKING POINTY.

And life itself?

Life can report directly to Gerald's office.

Where it may contemplate every shitty decision it has made while maintaining a respectful distance from the botanical department.

Because even Gerald deserves consent and personal boundaries.

Unlike certain employers, Gerald will provide clear instructions before any mandatory training.

Unlike certain dating apps, Gerald will not charge $19.99 to reveal another five needles.

And unlike the rest of this godforsaken administrative nightmare...

GERALD ACTUALLY DELIVERS WHAT HE ADVERTISES.

A cactus.

With needles.

No hidden fees.

No subscription.

No bullshit.

IN CLOSING.

I am not asking humanity to become perfect.

I am not demanding universal kindness, eternal happiness, or a magical world where everybody holds hands and sings fucking Disney songs.

I am asking for basic honesty.

Basic accountability.

Basic respect.

If you promise something, follow through.

If you make a mistake, acknowledge it.

If somebody says no, respect it.

If you don't want to meet, don't pretend otherwise to sell another product.

And if somebody has already explained something to you?

READ THE FUCKING EMAIL.

I don't want revenge.

I don't want the innocent to suffer.

I don't want to spend my remaining years hating everyone I encounter.

I want to live.

I want to work.

I want to laugh.

I want to enjoy a little companionship without having to run a fucking financial background check on every interaction.

And most of all?

I want to stop feeling like decency is something I have to beg for.

Until then, please consider this correspondence my official resignation from the Department of Giving Everybody Another Fucking Chance.

I will continue to be polite where appropriate.

I will continue to respect other people's boundaries.

But my patience is no longer available on an unlimited basis.

IF IT COSTS ME, I'LL LET IT GO.

ACT BROKE.

BE BORING.

THROW THE DEUCES.

And as per my last email...

FUCKING DO BETTER.

Sincerely,

Jerry “The Ankle-Biter” Silverhand
Acting Director, Department of Petty Affairs
CC: Gerald the Cactus
BCC: Every Exhausted Motherfucker Who Has Ever Had To Explain The Same Thing Twice

MR. JERRY'S UNSOLICITED ADVICE

Never mistake your ability to endure bullshit for an obligation to keep enduring it.

You can be patient without being a doormat.

You can be kind without financing somebody else's dishonesty.

You can work hard without pretending an employer's unfulfilled promises don't matter.

And you can walk away without writing a seventeen-page explanation of why.

Sometimes the most powerful response is simply:

"As per my last email."

And sometimes?

THE LAST EMAIL SHOULD BE THE FUCKING LAST EMAIL.

— Jerry 🦝🌵