The Abominable Snowman applies to be an editorial assistant at Vogue.

Dubious and far-fetched ideas.
May 9 2009 7:27 AM

The Yeti Wears Prada

The Abominable Snowman applies to be an editorial assistant at Vogue.

Dear Sir or Madam:

I am writing this letter of reference on behalf of Tulpa Sngrgrgrrrrll. Although you may know him better as "The Abominable Snowman," let me begin by assuring you that there is nothing at all abominable about his work ethic. He will make an excellent editorial assistant at Vogue.

I have known Tulpa for many years in my official capacity as a cryptozoological researcher. I have watched him. I have studied him. And, yes, I have hunted him. But what I found hanging upside-down in my snare trap wasn't some sort of monstrous missing link. What I found was a hardworking go-getter with a big heart, although I believe that heart originally belonged to the missing mountaineer Sir Basil Heathersmoor.

Tulpa has proven himself to be exceptionally detail-oriented, especially when the details involve stripping every last morsel of flesh from a carcass. I'm sure he would be equally proficient at "picking apart" the latest fall fashions. He has a great eye for design, as evidenced by the artful arrangement of bones in his tastefully blood-smeared cave. And ever since he came across a copy of your magazine on the body of my research assistant, the late Horace Mapleham, it's been impossible to pry either it or Horace's body away from him.

You're probably thinking that he sounds too good to be true. Let me assure you that this applicant does exist, and that I have the excretory samples from the past 10 years to prove it. (See attached.)

I know more about this abominable snowman than any living cryptozoologist. My mentor Baxter Leatheringstone had several more years of research under his belt, but that was before Tulpa accidentally ate his head. Although, to be fair to Tulpa, the fur hat Baxter was wearing at the time looked a lot like a Langur monkey, which abominable snowmen consider a delicacy.

Although he excels at his current occupation, Tulpa is tired of being a snowman. The job market in the Himalayas is pretty dismal now that the yurt bubble has burst, and if he sticks around Tibet he's never going to achieve his dream of becoming an abominable snowmanaging-editor.

As you may have guessed, Tulpa can be gruff at first, and not just when you've intruded on his mating grounds. But underneath his matted-fur exterior is a teddy bear. Of course, underneath that teddy bear is a regular bear that can crush a human skull like a snowball, as he did to my Sherpa guide, Lobsang. I suggest you stop at the teddy bear layer.

Tulpa is a frighteningly quick learner, and during his several months of captivity, he proved himself to be quite engaged in his tasks, especially the time he surprised the entire expedition party by escaping from his cage and picking us off one by one until only I remained, huddled behind the frozen corpse of my backup Sherpa.

That charming anecdote just reminded me of another example of Tulpa's attention to detail: He noticed I was alive because of the water vapor condensing from my terrified breaths! And people skills? He could have thrown me down an icy chasm, but instead he accepted me as part of his family—although this was both a blessing and a curse, as abominable snowfathers often devour their abominable snowchildren.

I must admit, my adoption by Tulpa may have had less to do with his compassion than with my rendition of an old Tibetan throat-sung lullaby. Incidentally, I suggest members of your editorial staff start practicing their Tibetan throat-singing immediately. It takes years to get right, and it's the only thing that will calm an enraged snowman. (The good news is that if you're already proficient in Tuvan throat-singing, you should be able to master the Tibetan variation in a matter of months.)

But enough about my hobbies! The sooner I finish this letter, the sooner Tulpa gets the job, and the sooner we can move somewhere less snow-peaked. I told him that New York is a melting pot of races and ethnicities, and he seems excited to experience it firsthand. That said, if I had to identify a weakness of Tulpa's, it would probably be his grasp of metaphor. To be even more direct: If Tulpa asks you to get into a cauldron with a Lithuanian, you should politely decline.

Ah, I can tell from that ear-splitting roar that Tulpa has finished hunting this evening's dinner. Good news for us, bad news for Summit Team Svensgard: It sounds like we're having Norwegian tonight.

Sincerely,
Professor Edmund Bonnebury

P.S. Tulpa is also proficient in Microsoft Excel.

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