Every weekday at a quarter to
six, I walked into Nick’s Pizza Emporium. And every day, I order
one slice of pizza, the type depending on a range of factors too numerous (and
boring) to describe.
But in exchange for my slice being slightly thicker and with
some extra toppings, I had to put up with Nick’s company.
Nick was a dreamer, and every day I had to put up with his
latest idea for a great new business or a place to go.
I never had the heart to tell him I liked my office job.
Pizza’s good though.
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