Assistant Cover Letter

20th April 2023

Hi (Art Person),

It looks to me like you’re looking for something of an assistant. Rather a few of them I guess. I’m just looking to pay my bills. (A family) passing left me with some bad legal business and it’s costly. I have a night job and need a day job.

So, about me, well, I’m a man of Irish continence and having that very Irish ability to talk for hours without making people want to leave I will never bore you. People have said that my head is a vast store of off facts. Still, I’m normally the fellow your dog is always happy to see. We share a love of film and museums and I would be happy to accompany you to every film I haven’t seen. When I used to cook for (family) I always made a point of making balanced meals while trying new things. People say I’m patient, knowledgeable, and artistic.

In any case, you’ve never met a man like me. In my working life a good number of people have commented on how much they enjoyed running into me. If you give me an interview I can promise that you’ll want to hire me but I can say you’ll remember the experience.

Best,



Richard Leland Neal

Construction Site in Hollywood

25th April 2023

Gentle Persons,

Your ad states that you’re looking for security for a construction site in Hollywood. I’m a guard with more than twenty years experience who has reliable transportation. I’ve worked a few construction sites in the past and know the ins and outs of that kind of work.

I have just taken a part time job which is on call and few hours a week so I need do no more than call them and inform them of a change in my availability. I have no hours scheduled past the twenty eighth, but I would like to give them as much notice as possible.

The jobs they have me on I’m sitting in my car using a portable toilet which is much like construction. Normally on a construction site I have a folding table and chair that I use. I tend to work the night shift and it’s best to be out in the elements to keep eyes and ears on the site.

Past that, well, I’m a man with bills to pay and I’d never take a day off until I get them paid if I could. You want to hire a man with bills to pay, because such a man comes to work every day no matter what.

I can tell you that during the pandemic I came down with a case of pneumonia. I didn’t miss a day of work. I already had to have a mask on and taking time off would mean losing overtime so I worked six days with the illness taking my patrols and filling out my reports.

If you’re looking for dependable I’m your man.

Best,


Richard Leland Neal

My Dear Cousin - My First Job

                                                9^th May 2021

My Dear Cousin,

In the world of life events that run together I have to discuss my first job. In my last letter I told you about my (Pony Girl)’s college years and two of those I spend in high school and two I spent working as a security officer.

I had a friend who graduated high school a year before I did and I had paid to have him certified as a guard by a company that no longer exists. He then gave me the recommendation that got me my first job two weeks before I got my diploma, and the day I got my last check from the government.

Now, security is a hard field. No matter who you work for they all have some kind of chip on their shoulder. Many of them don’t like you because you work for them, have different color skin, or just plain get your hands dirty. The pay is low, the hours are long, and the work can be very hard. 

When my (Pony Girl) graduated from college it was finally her turn to pay some of the bills so I took a post with less hours hoping to spend more time with my own education. This proved to be a bad idea, because I just didn’t make enough to go to school. I had thought that as my two siblings had gotten money for school I would get the same, but poor fiscal planning on the old man’s part left me high and dry.

To be honest I don’t think I’d have needed his money if he had just taken me to a psychologist in high school.  In two thousand and one I finally went to a psychologist on my own and got to see a psychiatrist. A psychologist talks to you and works through your problems with you, but is not a medical doctor. A psychiatrist is a medical doctor who gives you pills to make things better.

That experience changed my life, at least in the short run, I finally felt alive and had energy. It turned out that I couldn’t sleep without the medication the doctors gave me. I had spent the last ten years as an insomniac with hardly the strength to do much of anything. 

Also, in two thousand and one I got the pinch from part time work. My medication made me feel better and my work gave me as much overtime as I wanted. I worked every day for months on end, sometimes for more than twenty four hours, and I went to school.

I was on a post with no restroom and no bush to get things done in. My weight started dropping like a stone, and I overloaded my kidneys. I fell asleep on duty and was terminated. Well, no, I was terminated because the boss had a philosophy that he was doing you a favor because he was giving you a job and that you should bend over backwards for him.

It was a big fight at work to get a job that paid more and would give me enough overtime to pay my bills. Part of the problem is that I’m really good at security work and some of the hardest accounts, where the pay is lowest, were where I was most liked by the customer.

I was out for maybe a few minutes. Other guards slept half their shift and no one cared. It didn’t matter. In two thousand and two when I should have graduated from college I was out of work. I had money in the bank, but I was two hurt from my overloaded kidneys to go back to seek further employment.

I thought my family would help me. I was wrong.

Best,

 

Richard Leland Neal

Tower and Mole

7^th December 2018

Dear Cassi,

My last moment as Turtle Nose’s friend was the last moment I was friends with another man. I mean, cutting your ex husband from my life took with it a good number of folks, but this one was the first to go. I guess in relaying this message and clearing my head I should describe this man. I figure he won’t play much of a part in my life or my letters but he’s one of two folks of interest here.

This fellow I will call Tech Tower and another of Turtle Nose’s friends I will call Tech Mole. You knew Tech Tower well so far as I can tell, because he spent some time living up there with you folks. This was the tall man, rather than the long haired man, and Tech Tower is so named because of his love of computers and his stature which put him as the tallest of the folks of this story.

Tech Tower was educated at U. C. Irvine and had spent time working at Boeing. I always wanted him to go back there, because it was a job that paid well, but he wanted to live with his folks. He was a good friend of mine during much of the time Turtle Nose spent in the army and so I was surprised when he turned on me so easily.

Now Tech Mole is another figure from Turtle Nose’s past who he had met before he became a guard. He had worked at an alarm company where he met the Mole man whose greatest love was video games and his second greatest love was turtle nose.

Turtle Nose had trained Tech Mole to hate me long ago and you had mentioned that folks were always rude to me. Tech Mole was one of those folks. So, here we have two characters in this story, but both minor ones that I will come up only slightly.

To me these men are like ghosts, because I haven’t seen them in ten years now. Still I remember them so very well. They are like demons I need to exercise I guess. Or perhaps I only let my thoughts linger on them long enough to let them go. Well, I need to speak of them so I have named them.

We all have our part to play, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal 

Jolly Rubino

5^th June 2015

Dear Cassi,

As I move through the mess that is my home I am sometimes reminded of a ship called the Jolly Rubino. It was a cargo craft hauling chemicals when it caught fire and burnt. The ship was such a disaster that salvage crews refused the normal ‘no cure no pay’ and opted for a daily compensation for doing what they could to save the environment.

The ship burnt so hot that when crew tried to rescue it their boots melted. In the end they had to drain the ship of oil, and let it burn itself out. Then they offloaded the chemicals and blew the ship to hell. This left the hulk open to the elements and the waves would eventually break it apart. Nature would take it back.

Is this the future of the rotting hulk that is my home? Will one day bulldozers need to smash it to bits and leave nothing of the old structure? I don’t know, Cassi, but what I do know is that whatever is going to happen is a long way off and hard work is between me and that moment.

I have so much to do and so little time.

Keep yourself, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

Putrid in My Clothes

30^th November 2017

Dear Cassi,

I am putrid in my clothes not having washed for almost three days being hard at work in the drafting of comics and such. The nature of my garments is a disgrace as they are raggedy and stained with cat fur bristling from them. I have discarded my undergarments some hours ago as they had grown too saturated with the substances of the body.

The washer hums and so does the drier with the items scraped from the floor after the garage had been cleaned. I sort them finding in there long idle nature they had found detritus. Little bits of things fall to the concrete as I go. Long stained garments and towels, things you would revolt to touch, are a constant company to my work.

It has been longer than six hours since I took food, but still I feel no hunger in this less than an hour past midnight. I dine only when my hands become too shaky for the drafting table as I draw comics as I work on other things.

This is me in the odd twilight of being a man of employment and yet still surviving off an unemployment check. The company for whom I work has no hours for me, and in the low point I work every day as if I will never return to my labors. I work every day as if I will never get another job.

I draft my comics as if my livelihood depends on them. I draft hard and long, but as always I am behind in my work. With some it is a matter of months with another it is more than a year of work waiting for my hand to lift a pen.

The long hours are hard on my body and my gut lives in me as some parasite digging into me and causing pain in my back. My body groans as I rise, but I can only sit so long before my blood demands motion.   I know I need water as the skin of my cheeks is cracked beneath my unshaven beard, but again I will soon need to force myself to eat.

For the whole of my life I have struggled with depression and this is only another battle in that long war. I fear I will fight until my dying breath, but what else can I do.

Live strong, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

A Lifetime to Work - Polish Proverb

Dish Army

12^th October 2014

Dear Cassi,

As it always does it started with a dirty sink. That’s how I let my few days off slip by like they never were. Saturday morning when I came home the sink was full of dishes, and they spilled out onto the counter and across the room.

       

I hadn’t the strength to tackle them coming from an eight hour shift of work, having suffered a write-up, and finally capping my day with two hours of cardio at the gym. With this as my backdrop I slept as well as any who sleep during the day and found myself waking often.

       

It was possible at the six or seventh of these wakings that I emptied my bladder and found Pickle awake. It was just past one in the morning and he was in his night garb but wondered if I would cook and so I took that time to rise. I made quinoa and sausages red sauce sandwiches then set onto the task of the dishes. 

       

I cleared the counter and empted the sink on to the old abused white tiles. The dishes I placed in rows like military ranks guarding the gates of the life I wish to be my own.

       

Before engaging this formation of grime armored dishware I set to the stinky towels I’d been soaking over night. I found that the smell of cat urine can only be truly removed by ammonia. The water once blue from this had turned brown and the smell of urine stayed as the towels left.

       

This was the nature of my day of drudgery. I would battle the ranks of the dishes, do laundry, and in the mess of this sleep and draw. I was hampered by a glaze in my left eye that told me how hard my kidneys were working after that workout.

       

Now it’s Sunday night at eight and the weekend is nearly gone. I’ve spent it all working, well, next week I promise myself time to relax, and I know I’ll break that promise.

Stay on top of things, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

For the Homeless or Myself

14^th April 2013

Dear Cassi,

       

The morning passed in sleep and so the day has come to mid afternoon with me drifting in and out of this world. Even now my body finds its stamina in short supply as sleep and resting easily calls me from my work. I had no sleep of any kind on the thirteenth and so have come to this state as my being slowly regulates and comes back to a more normal way.

I question if I can call the ordeal result of my dedication or greed because my lack of sleep came as result of my labors with the homeless. I work Friday night into Saturday morning and the evening shift came open with an opportunity for eight hours overtime.

Normally, I would jump at the chance to work more hours, but I gave the opening a few days to sink in with the other guards before letting folks know that if it was still open I would come in for the shift. I was the only one to make such an offer and so took to have eight hours of free time between leaving and returning to work on Saturday.

       

As you know, this situation would mean little to me if I have no other engagements on the day in question. I sleep when there is time to sleep and work when work is needed but have no trouble getting the two completed. Unfortunately, this was a day elected for a bond assessor to arrive and examine the work left unfinished by a contractor.

       

One of the rooms to be inspected, as you may recall, is my washroom, and so I could find no sleep with my bed room disturbed. Further, Pony Girl would be here making a ruckus and you know how she bothers me. As Pony Girl and the truth are rare companions I knew I had to have something to do with this event and so I did engage myself with the assessor.

       

I should have taken control of this event from the start but what is done is done. Pony Girl had first missed several key points of the failed repair. The largest of these was a place where the drywall was rotting through the paint. The assessor said that the promises made by the contractor were not bondable so the cheap cabinets installed are my problem. Further, the mismatched tile can only be repaired out of my pocket rather than the contractors. Apparently they can use tile from will not match up and to a poor job of installing it to boot.

       

The cherry on top of the assessor’s visit was negligence on the part of Pony Girl who set a latter for the man that was unstable. It slipped from under him and he hurt his hand. He came to the kitchen and washed away the blood but we had no idea where our first aid kits had ended up after Pony Girls run through the house. Like a soldier in the fight the assessor finished his work with his wound but I kick myself for not preventing this injury.

       

After that I came into work and in doing found the shift I expected. The evening shifts always mean more work for me and so I wrote a long report over the passing eight hours. By the time the night had replaced day I felt the exhaustion in my head. By shift’s end I was having trouble and wondering if I could find my way home.

       

I found my limit and so still have to ask if I did this for the homeless or myself. I suppose it makes no difference now. The night has gone and they next day has come and finally I find myself ready for any real work.

Stay strong, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

Healthy Privacy Invader

This is a letter form a health coach from one of those companies that tries to lessen medical coasts by making their employees healthier. It was a load of bull if you ask me.

13th January 2015

Hi Richard,

I wanted to let you know that I really enjoyed talking with you today. Thanks for taking time out to speak to me so we could identify goals that you are wanting to work towards.

I want to remind you that successful participation with (healthy privacy invader) includes tracking your goals at least 75 percent of the time, meeting your goals at least 50 percent of the time and being in contact with me on a regular basis. Meeting these requirements ensures that you will receive the incentive offered by your employer.

If you have any questions or concerns as you get started with (healthy privacy invader) these next few days and weeks, please don"t hesitate to give me a call or to send an email through the Core Messaging Center. I can be reached at (Phone). My toll-free number is (Phone).

You will find the Core Messaging either from the Message Center link to the left, or the Yellow box on your Quick View main page. You can send me a message through this internal email system by simply replying to any message I have previously sent you.

My office hours are Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday from 6 am to 12 pm your time. If you are ever unable to reach me you are welcome to speak with a support coach who can help you complete your regular contact requirement or address any questions you might have. Simply press “0” during my voicemail message and our Customer Service department will be happy to assist you.

I am confident that we will work well together! I look forward to hearing from you again the week of February 9th.

Thanks again. I hope that you have a great week!

After the Doctor

First of the new year 2014

Dear Cassi,

So where was I? A client had come it drunk, gone nuts, and left me bleeding with my office a mess. It was only then that the supervisor came in and told me that I was bleeding.

I told her that the police were on their way, and then I documented things as best I could. The supervisor called my boss and he said that I should leave at once for the hospital, but I insisted on waiting for the police.

I’m glad I waited because the violent client came back and stood at the door watching me expecting to be let in. I can’t say as to why she didn’t force the door the way she did before, but maybe it just failed to close right.

The supervisor on duty asked me to pull up a picture of the client for the police then looked at my broken computer and said ‘I guess you can’t’. It sounds funny now but it wasn’t at the time.

The police came and asked me questions. They asked about what happened and the nature of the program. I was surprised because those officers had been to the shelter before. I mentioned this to them and they said that normally staff had not be so ‘polite’ as I. I guess they always wanted to know about the program but had never asked due to the rudeness of staff.

You have to ask what goes through people’s heads when the police arrive. Me, I was happy to see them, but then I called them. They finished up with me, and I drove off to the hospital. I spent an hour in the emergency room waiting and an hour after the doctor  saw me for some test results then I came back to work with the paperwork from the hospital.  

My boss was sitting at the front desk and was hoping that I’d finish my shift, but the night had been enough for me, and I was on my way home.

Stay safe, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal