Dear Saint Cayetano,
It has recently come to my attention that you are the patron saint of job seekers and the unemployed. I know you’re probably overworked and understaffed these days, and your knees must be just about worn out from all that incessant intercession on our behalves. I’ve got some ointment that I use for my arthritis I could share with you.
I realize that it’s a bit impolite of me to be prostrating myself before you like this without even so much as a how-do-you-do first. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I couldn’t even find one of those candles in a tall glass with your likeness pasted onto it at the dollar store. If it hadn’t been for Google search, I never would have found you at all. You’d think that you’d be more popular, what with representing so many millions of people these days.
Anyhoo, when you get a minute, I’d really appreciate it if you could use your influence with the big guy to get me a job. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. In fact, I prefer plain—all I ask is that it’s something righteous—you know, nothing to do with charging people interest for being poor, or selling boxes of fear called “insurance”, forcing children to work in sweatshops or brothels, or raking in profits from peoples illnesses, you know, stuff like that. I know there isn’t much left out there in the righteous realm, but it could be mopping floors, or maybe selling fruit. Ideally, I’d like to be outdoors at least part of the time.
Oh, and BTW—great job of reconciling Venice with Rome back in 1506. We could really use some of that kind of diplomacy down here right now, and I’m not just saying that to suck up. I’d also like to compliment you on starting that hospital for incurables and say how sorry I am that you died of grief and depression over the spiritual diseases besetting the rest of the clergy. Finally, I’d like to wish you an early happy birthday in case I forget on August 7th.
Eagerly awaiting your response at your earliest possible convenience,
Thanks in advance, Andy