Cabernet and Cover Letters

You ever pour yourself a glass of wine at the end of a long day and think, “You know what I should do right now? Get on LinkedIn and network like my rent depends on it?”

Because I have. And let me tell you, it starts innocent.

It starts with sipping a nice cabernet and thinking, I’ll just scroll a bit.

Check in on my feed. Maybe like a post or two. Harmless.

Three sips in, I’m nodding at a motivational quote about resilience written by someone who’s never been ghosted after a third-round interview. Five sips in, I’m aggressively clapping back at a post that says “No one wants to work anymore.”

By the half-glass mark, I’ve become emotionally attached to a woman named Denise from Denver who got laid off after 27 years, and I’m ready to start a GoFundMe, a grassroots campaign, and a mini docuseries in her honor.

But then it happens.

I see a recruiter.

And not just any recruiter — one who posted “We’re hiring!” with no job title, no salary info, and a link to a portal that looks like it was built on Windows 95.

And suddenly, I get bold.

Glass in hand. Vibes high. Confidence somewhere between “motivational speaker” and “delusional wizard.”

I open the chat and I message them.

“Hi Karen! I saw your post about opportunities and just wanted to say I’m available, passionate, and only slightly emotionally unstable in the most charming way.

I come with years of experience, a high tolerance for nonsense, and a LinkedIn addiction that could rival any influencer.

Let me know if you’re hiring for roles that involve fixing broken systems, mentoring lost interns, or dramatically opening emails with phrases like ’per my last message.’”

I hit send.

I laugh.

I top off the wine.

Then I message another one. And another.

At this point I’m running a one-man off-Broadway show in every recruiter’s inbox. The titles get bolder:

• “Available for work and possibly prophecy.”

• “Emotionally resilient and highly Google Calendar literate.”

• “Can I be your favorite ‘culture fit’ before you ghost me?”

Eventually, I close my laptop feeling strangely accomplished — like I just solved hiring. Like I am the talent market.

Fast forward to the next morning. I wake up to a message from a recruiter named Linda (not Karen, but spiritually adjacent). She says:

“Hi Alex — your message definitely stood out. I’d love to connect and learn more… and also ask what kind of wine inspired that level of cover letter creativity.”

Fair question, Linda.

It was a Pinot Noir.

And it turns out — desperation tastes better when paired with a little sarcasm and a splash of self-awareness.

So if you’ve ever sent DMs fueled by Cabernet confidence and job-hunt fatigue… you’re not alone.

We’re out here. We’re qualified. We’re charmingly unstable.

And we’re only one glass away from rewriting LinkedIn as a rom-com.