BOSTON—Sighing while staring out the window at the figure standing several floors below, local man Jeff Ipser longingly imagined what life would be like Monday if the pizza deliveryman outside his building were there for him.

“To think, if I’d just made different choices in my life, that could have been me running down to meet that man and his big, insulated red box full of pizza pies instead of someone else,” said Ipser before letting himself close his eyes and, for a moment, inhabit a world in which he were the one descending two flights of stairs, opening his wallet, and bringing an 18-inch pepperoni pizza up to his apartment for the night.

“I know I’m supposed to live in the moment, but someday, I just hope I’m as lucky as that guy who probably doesn’t even realize how good he has it. God. I just feel like I’ve wasted my whole life up until this moment—hopefully it’s not too late for me to order a pizza.” At press time, Ipser began yelling “Wait, come back” at the deliveryman as he got in his car and drove away. 

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