The Bun Truck started over an epiphany I had during a business trip in NYC. Jetlagged and exhausted from working till 2 in the morning, I crawled in bed and stared blankly at the ceiling of my bougie hotel room. These so called “benefits” of working in the corporate world, although at one point appealing, no longer provided the same level of satisfaction. After taking a sip of my Fiji water, I thought to myself, “What the F*$&? When do I ever drink Fiji water?” which in some weird, fortuitous way eventually led me to question, “Who am I?” and “What the hell am I doing with my life?”
Meanwhile, at the EXACT same time (not confirmed) my buddy James gets off a 12 hour shift working at NYC’s famed Morimoto restaurant. Albeit an amazing opportunity, the job was taking a toll on James physically and financially. It’s simple math…Restaurant wage + NYC = BROKE. Although not as fortuitous as Brian’s Fiji water, James heads over to the local brewpub, slams back a couple shots of Jame-O at a standard NYC-price of $15 per shot and says, “What the F*$$? Thirty-Dollars?” “Where am I?” “Who am I?” “What the hell am I doing with my life?”
Let’s face it. We’ve all had that Zoolander,“Who am I?” moment in our lives. A moment where you think long and hard about what you want to do, or better yet what you’re SUPPOSED to do in life. I’ll give myself some credit and say that I wasn’t destined to operate a food truck. However, I always knew in the back of my mind I wanted to own a restaurant/sports bar, make an honest buck and deal with everyday people.
My mind was telling me to give up the corporate gig and start a restaurant/bar while my savings account swiftly responded “Food Truck, son!” I followed my instincts and called up my buddy James who graduated from New York’s Institute of Culinary Education. After multiple phone conversations, exchanged e-mails, and desperate pleading, James eventually agreed and said verbatim, “Let’s do this S*#t!”
So…I gave up the Westwood pad for a cheaper place in K-town and haven’t looked back since. The past few months have been a tremendous amount of excitement, anxiety, and extreme convincing. Try explaining to your immigrant Korean parents that you plan on selling food…out of a food truck…on the street. To my surprise my parents were more than supportive, realizing that it was the same entrepreneurial spirit that afforded them a great life in America. Who knows what will become of The Bun Truck in a year or two. They say better is a man who tries and fails, than one who fails to try. So we’re trying…Here we go!