I write this letter in hopes of obtaining employment as a Car Name Selector. I will bring enthusiasm, maturity, and creativity to the position.

During recent travels through Japan, it has become obvious that Japanese automobile manufacturers have a poor record at choosing names for domestically sold vehicles. I have seen names such as That’s, Every, Joy Pop, Terios Kid, and the tongue-in-cheek Toppo BJ. These are just a few of the terrible car names I have seen. No Japanese manufacturer seems to be without blame.

Interesting Japanese car Names

To gauge the severity of this problem, imagine this conversation:
“Hey guys, I just bought a That’s!”
“What’s that?”
“A That’s”
“That’s what?”
“What I just bought.”
“What did you just buy?”
“That’s what I just bought!”
“Dude, WHAT did you just buy?!”
“No, That’s what I just bought!”
“Yeah, but what’s it called?”
“That’s what it’s called!”
“I hate you and your dog is ugly!”
“I hate you, too!”

Clearly, some of the Japanese automobile names could lead to lost lifelong friendships and possibly lawsuits. Why let business deteriorate, especially in these rough economic times, when my employment will inexpensively and efficiently solve these nomenclature problems?

Because I have no background in car name selection, no resume is attached. References, however, are available upon request. Skillsets I can bring to the job include a lifetime of American marketing saturation. Like any red-blooded American, branding and consumer awareness are part of my soul.

As compensation, I request 20,000,000 Yen per year and complimentary gym membership, the equivalent of maybe a dozen new cars. Also, I ask to work from anywhere in the world. I will gladly visit Japan as often as needed to view and test prototype vehicles or to meet with your marketing department. My sole responsibility and job title will be Designated Automobile Model Nomenclature Expert.

To prove how confident I am in my ability to pick great names resulting in higher subsequent sales, I offer a risk-free guarantee. If my car name selections do not result in profits greater than my compensation, I will return the entire income.

Give me this opportunity and I promise your company’s satisfaction, increased vehicle sales, and better automobile names.

Sincerely,

Brook

Why would I make such a foolish decision, leaving a dream job for nothing in particular? Every time someone asks me, I have a new answer. I’m in a rut. I want to be self-employed. I lost my mojo. I want to cross some items off my “bucket list” while I’m still young enough to enjoy them. Work takes all my energy. The list goes on and on, and they all boil down to two things. First, I want to pursue some of my dreams. Second, I lost job satisfaction over the years. Together, the timing was enough to convince me to go for it.

I’ve had people tell me that going for it isn’t the smartest decision. The economy is in the toilet. There is no guarantee I could get my old job back if I tried. I’m not a trust-fund baby. I’m not independently wealthy. I don’t have wealthy friends or relatives. I don’t even have a place to live. In fact, my mom has a history of kicking me out of her house, so I have no safe haven! This has to be the worst decision of my life.

One thought has pushed me to ignore the few naysayers, at least temporarily. Life is so short and can be changed so abruptly by forces outside our control. I feel compelled to take every opportunity to live it to the fullest.

My inner conflict in making this life-changing decision reminds me of the shoulder angel and shoulder devil seen in comic strips and sitcoms. On my right shoulder, a stern-faced angel is telling me to stay the course, to continue playing by the rules, and to stop having foolish romanticized thoughts. To my left, a funloving devil with a pitchfork is telling me I need to try things his way for once, that I’m only getting older and won’t have this opportunity again, and that I can always change my mind if things don’t work out.

The little devil won this latest round.