Most people don't picture Business Ideas like "junk removal" when they think about building real wealth. It sounds messy, a bit awkward, and not exactly something you brag about at a reunion.
And yet, a simple junk-hauling service (started with a beat-up borrowed van and a handful of flyers) grew into a nationwide brand doing roughly $300 million a year. What I like about this story is how practical it is. No fancy invention, no special degree, just a boring problem that never goes away: people have stuff they need gone, and they'll pay to make it disappear fast.
Starting with a beat-up van (and a whole lot of doubt)
The early reactions were brutal, and kind of funny in hindsight.
They said you're going to quit your job to do what? Haul junk and you're going to call it what? College Hunks.
That skepticism didn't stop Nick Friedman and his friend Omar. If anything, it became fuel. The mindset was simple: don't let doubters pick your ceiling. Nick put it in plain terms, if you doubt yourself, taking the leap gets a lot harder. Find people who push you forward, not the ones who keep you small.
The first "fleet" was basically a favor. Omar's mom (through a furniture store connection) lent them a beat-up cargo van. They lived at home, kept overhead low, and got moving immediately with cheap printed flyers. Later, when they upgraded to their first real truck, their parents co-signed a bank loan. It's not glamorous, but it's real life, especially in the US where a reliable vehicle is often the biggest early constraint for home services.
One detail that matters: they didn't drift into this full-time by accident. During the summer before senior year, they wrote a business plan that won an entrepreneurship competition, which gave them confidence. After graduation they took regular jobs briefly, but both felt unfulfilled. Then came the email exchange that snapped the whole thing into motion. Omar replied in all caps: his timeline was "RIGHT NOW!!!" So they quit, went full-time, and didn't look back.
In 2005, the business did about half a million dollars in revenue. That's not a "someday" number, that's a "we started and people paid" number.
The name that made people look twice (and the "always be branding" rule)
"College Hunks Hauling Junk" started as a joke suggestion from Omar's mom, but they realized it could work as a pattern interrupt. Most moving and hauling companies sound the same. This name didn't. It was playful, a little odd, and hard to forget.
Over time, they even turned "HUNKS" into an acronym: Honest, Uniformed, Nice, Knowledgeable Service. That matters because it ties the quirky name back to a promise customers can feel.
Nick's three-word marketing rule was short and sharp: Always be branding. Not in a cringey way, but in the day-to-day details that customers remember. The first impression counts, then the second and third impressions either confirm it or destroy it. In their case, the trucks became rolling billboards, and the experience had to match the look.
There was also a clever "make it look bigger" move that's almost too simple. When they had one truck, they parked it in highly visible spots all over town. People assumed they had 10 or 20 trucks because they kept seeing it. They also bought a 1-800 number and put it on the truck, even though it routed to a cell phone. It gave the brand more weight early on, while they were still tiny.
That's the part many first-time founders miss. You don't need to lie. You just need to present yourself like you plan to be around next year, and then deliver a clean service so the presentation isn't empty.
For more background on the brand itself, here's the official site: College HUNKS Hauling Junk & Moving.
How the junk removal model actually makes money (pricing, minimums, and margins)
Junk removal looks simple from the outside: show up, load stuff, haul it away. The money comes down to pricing, speed, and disposal discipline.
Their pricing is based on volume, meaning how much space the items take up in the truck. In their markets, that can range from about $99 on the low end for one item, up to $500 to $600 for a full truck. That price includes labor, loading, and disposal time. They also do a free assessment upfront so the customer knows what they're paying before the work starts.
One job example in the story was a rental property garage cleanout. Everything was consolidated in the garage, so it was easier. The estimate came in around a quarter to a half load, roughly $200 to $300 all-in.
Alt Text: A team loads mixed junk from a garage into a branded truck while discussing volume-based pricing.
Here's a quick way to think about the pricing ranges they mentioned:
| Job size (volume-based) | Typical price range mentioned |
|---|---|
| Minimum call-out | $99 to $150 |
| Quarter to half load example | $200 to $300 |
| Full truck (market-dependent) | $500 to $600 |
The takeaway is that the minimum exists to make the trip worth it. After that, bigger loads feel more cost-effective to the customer because the price scales by truck space, not by "number of heavy things you own."
On margins, Nick said the goal is usually 25% to 30% gross margin, after disposal fees, fuel, labor, and everything else. Those costs can swing a lot based on geography and dump fees, so the "rule" is more about discipline than a perfect number.
They also expanded into moving services later, and the contrast was honest. Junk removal tends to have higher margins, but customers have more alternatives (they can procrastinate, DIY it slowly, or leave it in the garage). Moving has lower margin pressure in some cases, but demand is steady because people can't always avoid it. When you move, you either do it yourself or you hire someone.
Getting your first customers on a tiny budget (and the billboard mistake)
When someone asked how to start with only $500, the answer was practical: spend it on access to a truck first. Without a truck, you're just a person with good intentions. Then put the rest into low-cost advertising and hustle.
That meant Facebook Marketplace, Craigslist, simple signs, and flyers. The point wasn't to build a pretty brand deck. It was to get the phone to ring, do the first job, and let the work pay for the next step.
For the cheapest way to get your first 10 customers, the core answer was word of mouth and networking. Not the online "networking" where you like posts, but the real thing: tell people what you do, knock on doors, go to realtor events, and be visible in the community.
One tactic they assumed would work but didn't: paid billboards. The trucks already worked like moving billboards, and the cost of billboard space didn't match the value they were getting, especially for a lower average ticket service. Instead, they got better results by parking their own truck in high-traffic areas for "free."
Later on, paid search became part of the engine, too. Nick described Google Ads as a constant tuning process. Keywords shift, algorithms shift, and you don't set it once and walk away. Still, he recommended it for this category because that's where customers search, especially in competitive markets.
If you want a general step-by-step view of what launching can look like in the US, this guide is a solid reference: Jobber's guide to starting a junk removal business.
And if you're in that stage of collecting options, not just committing to one path, this internal roundup is useful for brainstorming: 10 Profitable Business Ideas to Start in 2026 With Low Investment.
Scaling beyond "two guys and a truck" (systems, training, and tough years)
In year one, the founders did everything. They hauled junk, drove trucks, answered phones, handled customer issues, and basically lived inside the business.
Then a mentor pushed them toward a book that changed how they operated: The E-Myth Revisited by Michael Gerber. The idea that landed was simple: you can't just work in the business, you have to work on it. So they started building systems and processes, then hired people to drive trucks and answer calls. That let them add a second truck, then a second location, and eventually a franchise model.
Moving services came later, around 2008 and 2009, right during the housing crisis. People were already asking them to move, and they kept turning it down. Expanding into moving gave them a bigger "pie" to serve, especially when the economy got weird and they needed more ways to win jobs.
They also talked plainly about hard periods, 2008 and 2020 slowed growth. Those years forced them to get tougher and more resourceful. When conditions improved, they were better operators, so they could grow faster.
A big part of keeping the experience consistent across locations came down to training. Their line was memorable: "If you're not training, you're not gaining." They created scripts and customer service training for frontline teams. Even small habits mattered, like calling every job before the arrival window. Nobody is perfectly on time forever, but communication reduces customer stress.
At the corporate level, their headquarters supports franchises with sales, coaching, finance, and back office operations. The corporate team is roughly 50 to 80 people, and at one point they had hundreds of call center agents in-house, later shifting remote.
One metric Nick checks daily: leads. Leads become conversions, conversions become sales, and sales become profit. That's the funnel, and it starts at the top.
Culture, partnership rules, and doing good without pretending it's "free"
A lot of founders say "culture matters," then never define it. Here, culture was treated as a tool for hiring, recognition, and accountability. They even had a line for it: it's not what's on the walls, it's what's in the halls.
Their core values were listed as four pillars:
- Building leaders
- Always branding
- Listen and fulfill
- Fun, safe, winning team
For franchisees or team members, they looked for four things: skill fit, financial objectives, fun factor, and whether the person's family supports the decision. That "family support" point is easy to overlook, but it's real. A new business changes schedules, stress, and risk, and it's harder when home life fights the plan.
On partnerships, they addressed the common stat that many partnerships fail. Their "rule" was simple: shared values and vision, open communication, and no resentment lasting more than 24 hours. Disagreements happen, but they come back to the mission fast.
They also talked about paying yourself, which many owners avoid for too long. A mentor pushed them to pay themselves first, and they started doing it about six months in. For a first-time founder, Nick suggested a rough benchmark of 10% of revenue.
On the purpose side, they partnered with U.S. Hunger and donate two meals for every completed job. They've surpassed 5 million meals since starting the program. They also provide free moves for survivors of domestic violence.
The leadership balance they described was "Sesame Street vs Wall Street." If it's all money, people don't care. If it's all warm feelings, there's no accountability. Their version: be warm with people, be cold on numbers. It's a good reminder that kindness and standards can sit in the same room.
And yes, the story had some fun moments too. They talked about the weirdest haul request, a basement full of pre-internet adult videos, and a bold early decision that worked: appearing on the first episode of the first season of Shark Tank. They turned down a deal that would have traded 10% of the main business, and they have no regrets about sticking to their gut.
For more on Nick's thinking around training and leadership, this interview covers similar ground: Adam Mendler's interview with Nick Friedman.
What I learned (and what I'd do differently if I started tomorrow)
I've read a lot of founder stories, and I still catch myself getting pulled toward the "cool" ones. Software, AI tools, shiny products, big promises. Meanwhile, this whole thing sits in plain sight: people have junk, they don't want to lift it, and they want someone reliable to show up.
The biggest lesson I'm taking from this, personally, is that a simple service business can be a serious answer, not a backup plan. I used to treat "junk removal" like a side hustle category. Now I see it more like a cash machine that runs on speed and trust. If you can quote clearly, show up clean, and communicate, you're already ahead of half the market.
Also, I liked the honesty around doubt. When friends or family call an idea embarrassing, it messes with you. It just does. So the "find champions" thing hit home for me. Not hype people, real ones who push you to do the work and stay steady.
And the branding part, yeah, I'll admit I used to roll my eyes at "always be branding." Then I remembered how I pick contractors myself. I notice the truck. I notice the uniform. I notice the tone of the first phone call. Those details make me trust them, or not. It's not deep, it's human.
If you're collecting Business Ideas right now, I'd keep at least one "uncool" option on the list, the kind that gets you paid this week, not someday. This internal piece captures that scrappy, start-from-zero mindset well: If I Wanted to Build a Business for $0 in 2026, I'd Do This.
Conclusion
The most profitable Business Ideas aren't always the ones that sound impressive, they're the ones tied to nonstop demand and a clear problem. A borrowed van, a few flyers, and the courage to look a little foolish at the start turned into a $300 million brand built on pricing discipline, consistent training, and memorable branding.
If you're stuck in a 9-to-5 and waiting for the "perfect" idea, this is a good reminder that boring work can build an amazing life. The real question is simple: are you willing to take the leap, even if someone laughs first?