How I Quit My Job
Mr. Hillman,
Working at The Zone for these past nine or so months has been an incredibly rewarding experience. Every time I walk into the building, I can feel the excitement in the air, the sensation that in this building today, some little kid will have the time of his life. As my first job, yourself, Mrs. Hillman, the Browns, Ginny, Amanda, and the others have made the transition into the "real world" as smooth and painless as possible (although the "reality" of the real world is still up for debate). You've all dealt with my screw-ups, and helped me learn from them. You've explained to me what it means to work, and what a good employee should do.
I am sad to announce, however, that my time has come to move on. No, I'm not just jumping off the Zone bandwagon to go work for some cheesy fast-food joint, but rather I feel that my heart is no longer in the work I do. In most jobs, like fast-food and so on, it's no big deal to not have your heart in your work. However, when it's your job to make a child's dream come true, to make their one day exceptionally memorable, you can't go about just dumping candles on the cake, spouting some cheesy jokes and haphazardly throwing pizza at children. You've got to have your heart and soul in your work, even if you're working the dreaded Bounce Redemption, or cleaning the parking lot, and I'm afraid my heart has wandered elsewhere, by no fault of yours or anyone else's at The Zone. If at all possible, I would love a letter of reccomendation from you.
Working at The Zone has greatly benefitted me, and I hope my employment there has benefitted you and the rest of The Zone as well.
Thank you very much,
Phillip Preston Smith.