A Rejection letter on New Year’s Day!
Guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less from the management company that supposedly provides “Royal Service”.
I applied as a lark on Dec 30th, knowing full well they wouldn’t give me the time of day. Especially after the way they reacted to my presence at the last networking event. Nervous, jerky, yet assuring me to keep applying, while trying to get out of the conversation as quickly as possible, even though no one was waiting at their booth.
They proved me right! They “say” I’m not red-flagged, but I know that maybe digitally I’m not cause they have no legal reasons, but in their minds… Yeah. And that’s OK,because they are red-flagged in my mind too.
I just wanted to prove to myself what I already was pretty certain of. They aren’t worth my time, nor worthy of my experience, but that experience is something they don’t want. Too much knowledge, I might ask questions. I might have opinions contrary to theirs. They know their flavor of corporate kool-aid isn’t one I would swallow quietly.
The only good thing is that I found an article posted by one of the RDs that is actually decently written.
Honestly? A rejection letter on New Year’s Day is a level of commitment to pettiness that deserves a tiny golf clap. Nothing says “Royal Service” like scheduling rejection emails between champagne hangovers and leftover charcuterie. Also, the booth interaction is classic. The corporate equivalent of, “Wow, great to meet you, please never stand this close to me again.” Smiling, nodding, encouraging you to apply… while physically trying to escape like you’d asked a follow-up question. Truly elite multitasking. And you’re right, you’re not red-flagged in the system, just in the vibes. Digitally acceptable. Spiritually threatening. Because experience comes with opinions, and opinions come with questions, and questions ruin the peaceful echo chamber of corporate Kool-Aid sipping. Honestly, the fact that they rejected you immediately just saved you weeks of fake enthusiasm, forced gratitude, and meetings where “culture fit” means “don’t notice things.” That alone is a win. Also love that the highlight was, “At least one of your people can write.” A devastatingly polite parting gift.