The day Mulhausen shot the CIO in Weekly Staff was bad for worse reasons than that. It was also the day Blair found out that I had sex with my wife. “You fucking prick!” She yelled, standing in the doorway of my meager 120 ceiling tile office. “It didn’t mean anything,” I said defensively with scrupulous aplomb. “So you admit it?” “I meant, the message she left me. You admit getting into my voicemail again?” “You fucked your wife, you sonofabitch. That means something.” Some