I Made My Fortune Building Furniture With Loaf Of Bread End Pieces
The flour and the glory.
Jesus built furniture and broke bread, while I built furniture made of bread. You could say I’m a more synergized version of the Son of God. I have it all: money, success, and a desk made of enriched grain, and I owe it all to those annoying end pieces.
My humble story begins in a small apartment, where I watched hours of furniture restoration clips on YouTube while eating baloney sandwiches. On one fateful day, I placed my sandwich down, but had no coffee table. There was no chance I’d sacrifice my sandwich, as it was made of the last two middle slices.
Dozens of almost empty bread bags with just the end pieces amassed in my kitchen. I could’ve made an open-faced turkey sandwich, but I was too lazy to make gravy. And I don’t like turkey. No human, rational or irrational, intends on throwing out those end pieces, but we do anyway. That’s when I had my “a-ha moment.” I could build a coffee table with the pile of left-over end pieces. YouTube proved to be more valuable than a resource for just make-up tutorials.
The secret to making end-piece furniture is the epoxy resin. Pour some of that into the steel frame to create a shape. Mix in some crust, add some dye for a pop of color, and let it harden. It sounds easier said than done, but after much trial and error, I made my first coffee table. Tony Stark crashed early iterations of the Iron Man suit into expensive sports cars and I accidentally ingested resin a few times. But, like Iron Man, I stuck with it, and the results would change mankind.
I found my life’s calling. I was satisfied both emotionally and hunger-wise and the HEEL (Household Effects & Easy Living) Furniture Company was born.
I set up shop at the local artisan market where the tables were a hit. The early adopters — older millennials — loved the quirky designs. I branched out from coffee tables, making side tables, desks, and dining room tables. Variety is the salami spice of life.
My business exploded. Furniture made of sliced bread was the best thing since sliced bread. I moved into a big warehouse and hired a small army of employees. After a strategically placed advertisement on the local Fox affiliate, The HEEL Furniture Company was cranking out furniture like crazy — middle slices included.
As The HEEL Furniture Company went national, I was proof the American Dream still existed. I was the toast of the town. I held court with world leaders and access to the best secret societies. I went from not having a place to rest my baloney sandwich to becoming a successful furniture mogul with enough dough to — fingers crossed — pick up Melinda Gates while she’s on the rebound.
