By Catherine Terelak

Dear Advisor,

In our meeting last Tuesday, you inquired again about my post-graduation plans. As you know, I’m trying to cobble together a career in the arts, though this seems less and less plausible the more I reread my own writing. Some of the satire, I think, is quite good. The more serious “literary” stuff is obviously strip-mined from my own nervous psyche. Subtlety is not my strong suit, and I haven’t yet discovered how to be political without sounding like a school shooter. I like me, but God knows if any institution will trust me with a stipend and a teaching fellowship. 

For this reason, I’ve decided to explore other options. My parents have generously agreed to provide lodging on an indefinite basis, and I’ve been checking the job listings within a twenty-mile radius of their home in Eastern Massachusetts. Yesterday, I discovered a temporary recruitment notice for the position of manager at Sky Zone in the Liberty Tree Mall, hence my urgency in emailing and choice to mark this email “URGENT.” 

You, an older gentleman and a scholar of literature, may not be familiar with Sky Zone. For the uninitiated (you), it is an indoor trampoline park that hosts groups, birthdays, and individual “jumpers.” There is a foam pit, a drop slide, and a ninja warrior obstacle course. Dodgeball games commence on the hour, every hour. People can pose for photographs against a wall with large painted wings — because that’s what you do at Sky Zone: fly. 

At Sky Zone, each jumper must pay five dollars extra for a pair of rubberized socks, much like the socks worn at psychiatric hospitals. Jumpers, however, may not wear psychiatric socks to Sky Zone. For safety reasons, Sky Zone socks must be Sky Zone-approved. As the manager of Sky Zone, it would fall to me to enforce such regulations, and I believe I could do so. Unlike many people in America today, I am not afraid to say the word “no.” 

I would be a good manager of Sky Zone because I crave the consumer sublime. I was overcome with beauty in the Mall of America and pray every night to a small bust of Chuck E. Cheese. I love to eat bad food and be entertained. I have pretended for four years to be a student of high culture and a citizen of humanity, but at my core, I was always an artist and a glutton for nonsense, and if no one will pay me to pursue art, I might as well pursue nonsense. If you do what you love, they say you’ll never work a day in your life.

All this to say, I am asking for another letter of recommendation. This letter can be shorter than those you’ve written in support of my candidacy for an MFA (thank you heartily for those); it’s mainly a compensation for my refusal to be drug-tested. Tell them, if you will, that I am generally pleasant and clean and on time. You can mention my written communication skills and proficiency in Microsoft Suite, but this is not necessary. They might like to hear that I have a good sense of humor, which seems to count for something. 

Best, 

Catherine