Samir does stay home on Tuesday. It’s not like he balls up on the couch in his robe, eating chocolate-covered marshmallow snowmen from Walgreens and watching a Square Pegs marathon on some three-digit cable channel he never knew existed—not for the whole day, anyway—but there’s nothing to do at the office besides slouch up and down the halls complaining about how there’s nothing to do, and he can do that at home. He doesn’t especially feel like shaving, and let’s face it: if he doesn’t sit around feeling sorry for himself, who else will?
It’s also possible that Samir’s ego is feeling a little roughed up. Sure, Kerry’s vivacious and excruciatingly handsome and probably has to beat men back from his door with a heavy stick, but a guy could do a lot worse than Samir. After his eleventh marsh
