[ WP ] To bolster your less-than-mediocre resume , you start a fake company with your friends .

I glared around at my friends. `` Focus, would you?'' I grumbled. `` Stop goofing around!'' 
 
 `` That should be our focus!'' Jimmy shouted, from where he lay slumped over the arm of my couch. `` Goofing Around, Incorporated! Throw me another beer, would you? Do you have any food? Freaking starving, man.'' 
 
 `` Look, I still do n't understand what we're doing here,'' Nelson piped up from his seat on the floor, pushing at his glasses. It was a futile gesture, as they immediately slid back down his nose, but he kept on doing it anyway. 
 
 I sighed, rubbing my face. `` For the last time, we're starting a company!'' 
 
 `` Doing what?'' 
 
 `` I do n't know, Nelson,'' I stated through gritted teeth. `` And it does n't matter. The point is that my resume sucks, and I need some sort of halfway decent experience to put on it if I'm ever going to get a job.'' 
 
 `` Why get a job, man?'' Jimmy piped in. `` Just stay in college, man! And I'm still waiting on that beer.'' 
 
 I pointed at him. `` Come up with an a contribution to this conversation, and I'll think about maybe tossing you a beer.'' 
 
 `` So we're starting a company, but we do n't know what it does,'' Nelson repeated slowly, as if he could n't quite wrap his head around the idea. `` It's just to look good on paper. I do n't know how I feel about this, John.'' 
 
 For a second, I debated between begging or threatening. Begging won out. 
 
 `` Come on, Nelson, we need you!'' I implored, giving him my best puppy-dog eyes. `` You're the only one of us in business school, and we need you to draw up a business plan, maybe some fancy looking documents.'' 
 
 `` It's more than that, though,'' Nelson replied. `` We have to make the company do something, so that we can convince employers that it's real.'' 
 
 I frowned. `` Why would we ever talk to employers?'' 
 
 This time, when he pushed up his glasses, he raised his eyebrows at me as well. `` You're going to put this company on your resume,'' he said. 
 
 `` Yeah.'' 
 
 `` And you'll give this resume to employers, as proof of your work skills.'' 
 
 `` Right.'' 
 
 `` And they're going to want to call the other companies for references.'' 
 
 `` And? Oh. Ohhhhh.'' 
 
 `` There it is,'' Nelson nodded, as if finally breaking through to an especially slow tutoring pupil. `` So we need to actually have the company do something.'' 
 
 `` How about delivering weed to folks?'' Jimmy jumped in. `` I always get the munchies at, like, four in the morning, and there's never anyone to come bring me some primo bud!'' 
 
 `` Weed's illegal, Jimmy,'' I pointed out. 
 
 `` Nah, that's just what the government thinks. But okay, what if you bring other stuff to people.'' 
 
 `` Like what?'' 
 
 `` I dunno. Pot brownies?'' 
 
 I grimaced, but Nelson straightened up a little. `` Hold on. That's not the worst idea.'' 
 
 `` Are you kidding?'' I burst out at him. `` You really want us to deliver pot brownies? You're supposed to be the smart one!'' 
 
 `` No, no, not the pot part,'' he persisted. `` What about delivering food, though? That's a good business model.'' 
 
 I considered this idea. `` There are already pizza places and Chinese food places that deliver.'' 
 
 `` Ugh, I ca n't eat Chinese food when I get high,'' Jimmy complained. `` Those chopsticks, man, they freak me out. Like little food spears. I think the kung pow chicken's, like, screaming at me.'' 
 
 I rolled my eyes, but Nelson turned towards Jimmy. `` So, when you're baked, what do you want to eat?'' 
 
 Jimmy looked up at the ceiling, a misty look in his eyes. `` I dunno, man. Something with just, like, everything on it. Like a deli in a bite. Primo sandwich, with meat, and cheese, and beef, and mayo...'' 
 
 `` You're drooling on my couch,'' I pointed out. 
 
 `` But he's right, though,'' Nelson pointed out, turning back to me. `` Nowhere around here does sandwich delivery. What if we made a business out of that?'' 
 
 `` It sounds more like you're actually suggesting a real company, not a fake one,'' I protested, but Nelson hopped up from the floor, on a roll now. 
 
 `` Yeah, and real money's better than fake money!'' he insisted. `` This could work! We'd need some space, and some start-up cash for ingredients, but there are tons of college stoners around here! We could hit a real market with this - sandwiches, delivered!'' 
 
 `` And you'd just, like, pick up the phone, and there's the sandwich,'' Jimmy chimed in. `` Freaky, man. Super fast.'' 
 
 `` Freaky fast,'' I echoed, starting to feel some of the room's infectious enthusiasm soaking into me. `` Hey, this could maybe work.'' 
 
 `` So, do I get that beer yet?'' Jimmy called out. 
 
 I got up, grabbing a can out of my fridge, but hesitated before throwing it to him. `` We need a name, though.'' 
 
 `` Oh, easy.'' Jimmy pulled himself up into a sitting position on the couch, pointing first at himself, then at me. `` Jimmy. John. Jimmy John's.'' 
 
 `` What about Nelson?'' I asked, tossing my stoner friend his beer. 
 
 Jimmy rolled his eyes as he cracked the top of the beer. `` Jimmy John Nelson's? Does n't have the same ring.'' 
 
 ***** 
 
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