I hope this email finds you rested after a nice weekend. I want to thank everyone in the office for throwing me a truly elaborate surprise party last week. As I’m sure we all remember, the theme was the band the Red Hot Chili Peppers, from printed napkins to a cake saying, “In Kiedis We Trust,” to replacing “Happy Birthday” with “Give It Away.” While I am grateful for your time and effort, I also want to clarify something everyone seems to have missed: I am not that into the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
Even though I frequently address it, this misunderstanding has somehow consumed my professional life. The messages I send to team members are increasingly responded to with Red Hot Chili Pepper GIFs. Since I started working here four years ago, my Secret Santas have exclusively given me Red Hot Chili Pepper candles. And on an almost daily basis, I am disrupted by someone coming into my cubicle, listing the band’s numerous guitarists, and walking away before I can respond. And while I appreciate the gestures, I respectfully beg that this email is the end of all of that.
Let me also clarify that, yes, my cat’s name is Flea, but I did not name her after the bassist for the Red Hot Chili Peppers. That was her name when I adopted her and it doesn’t seem fair to change it on her now. This also explains if you’ve ever heard me say, “Flea is the joy of my life.”
Please understand how much this has affected my feelings towards the workplace. I avoid the breakroom at all costs, out of fear one of you will again ask me how I feel about the Dave Navarro-era. More importantly, I am repeatedly passed over for promotions, which is likely due to the steady decline of my performance reviews year after year. I believe this is connected to how much time I spend sorting through my messages and emails, trying to figure out which ones are important and which ones are links to acoustic covers of the band’s songs on YouTube.
To further clarify, my family does calls me Pepper Man, but that is a nickname my grandfather gave me as a child because of my “salty disposition.” While my grandfather has passed on, I can almost assure he did not know about the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
I appreciate you reading, despite this somehow coming as a shock to many of you. I am happy to respond to any questions about this email or about my actual interests. However, I will not be responding to questions about the band itself, nor will I answer if you respond with the lyrics to “Suck My Kiss.” In fact, this time, I will report it to HR.