Ms. Veronica Miller, Vice President
Verizon Wireless Corporation
Sales and Marketing Division

Dear Ms. Miller,

I’m sure you know what this is all about. I’m sure you’ve already heard from people gathered around the water cooler, or in the bathrooms. Or in the lunchroom, or in the lobby. Or, God knows, on their cell phones. I, therefore, am resigning from the position of ringtone designer, and will be leaving your company by the end of today.

Before I pack up my equipment (which includes that drum kit being stored in the utility closet on the third floor, and the tambourines everyone’s having a high time playing in the lunchroom), I would like you to know that I am considered an innovator in my field, and as you walk the streets of this city you can hear my work playing on the cell phones of millions.

You will be sorry you passed on the Domestic Goddess Ringtone Collection I created for your company.

I would also like to clarify exactly what went on in the presentation meeting this morning—the one where all the “domestic” ringtones I’d been working on for the past seven weeks were stuffed down the toilet. Since you were not present when I made the presentation, I would like you to know that the exact words used by the marketing director and his henchman were “a waste of time” and “moronic.” I take this as a personal and professional insult, considering I created such ringtone sensations as the Real Baby Crying Ringtone, the Meow-Meow Kitty Ringtone, and the controversial Brooklyn Bitch Ringtone (the one that says, “Whhhoooiy? Whhhhooiy did you do this to me? Get out of my house, you lazy bastaaaahd!”).

So, I would like you to know that when I resign at the end of today I will be taking all the Domestic Goddess Ringtones with me. I’d like to clarify which ringtones they are (and I have mailed them all to myself, using your postage meter, and thus have had them copyrighted), so there will be no discrepancy. This is my intellectual property and does not belong to you or your shortsighted company. Below is the entire list of ringtones, belonging to me, that I created during my seven weeks:

Opening a Window Ringtone—I have created ceee-rack and whoosh sounds that can compare with no other in sounding just like opening a window in your home. Surely a cross-marketing promotional gold mine with HGTV or the like. Patent pending.

Repotting a Plant Ringtone—The difference between the sound of throwing some dirt in a pot and that of soil being placed lovingly in a new home is tremendous. A shoo-in for garden lovers. Too bad you missed out.

Pulling Out a Piece of Transparent Tape Ringtone—Can anyone in the free world hear that sound and not be flooded with fond memories of gift-wrapping sessions from their past? Sure to be downloaded by millions at holiday time.

Licking an Envelope Ringtone—Again, playing on nostalgia, a real tear-tugger for the baby boomers. The lick-lick sound, then the kweek sound of folding the paper over. I can clearly imagine a cell phone ringing and a stranger nearby saying, “God, is someone actually performing that ancient domestic art of licking an envelope?”

Stirring the Soup Ringtone—The tour de force of the group, and probably the ringtone I’ll retire on. Please note that any ringtone you create that has any resemblance to the sssslurp-sssslurp of the stir and then the ting! of the spoon hitting the pot can be cause for me to take legal action.

You will mightily regret passing on the Domestic Goddess Ringtone Collection I created for your company. I will be shopping these ringtones around to your competitors. I will take them straight to Martha Stewart’s desk. I am sure she will love them.

S. Hopkington

P.S. If you or any of your friends would like to download one of the original ringtones from my collection, you can find them at