It’s 721 oak-lock. I’m doing battle with flies. There are 75 flies in my van, and they are all trying to land on my eyeballs and teeth. I’m trying to “rat tail” them with a t-shirt, and my success has been limited. Swatting at flies has given me a much needed respite from my busy day spent eating two sandwiches, and planning my future. I’ve made a decision. I’m going to start a sandwich factory.
I’ve always wanted to start my own company. I figure that with my experience eating sandwiches, and my two years of college business classes, I am as prepared as I will ever want to be. I’m excited about this plan. I’ve been working out the details in my head, and I’m positive that this is a gold mine. The business model is simple. The factory cranks out sandwiches, which are loaded up on a fleet of small pickup trucks with banners on the side advertising $1 sandwiches. The pickups drive around honking their horns and ignoring traffic laws to get attention. It works like a less “silly” version of an ice cream truck.
I figure I can build the factory with scrap wood from construction sites, and fill in all the holes with mud. The only expense would be nails, because I don’t think I can find enough nails for free. I already have a hammer, so I figure I can just use that to pound in all the nails.
Most factories have smoke stacks, and I haven’t figured out where I’m going to get something suitable to make those, or what I’m going to burn to make the pollution. Since pollution isn’t absolutely necessary to make tasty sandwiches, I figure I can operate for a few months with just a bare roof. After I get some revenue from the sandwiches, maybe I can hire a smoke stack firm to help with those logistics. I considered running the factory without smoke stacks, but I think they’re actually necessary if I want to be taken seriously.