Diagnosis Night — Part 3

I had thought that June 22, 2010 would be a memorable day in my life because that was the day I had been diagnosed with breast cancer.  Now, I wondered if I would also remember it as the most bizarre day I had ever spent with Mr. Exec

I had just watched him grab another woman's ass repeatedly right in front of me.  Then, I listened to him explain that he did that for "business reasons."  I found his actions completely disrespectful, but I didn't have the energy to get into a fight with him.  I knew that we would eventually need to discuss all of this, but now was not the time.

I decided to focus on other, more innocuous matters, when I asked Mr. Exec:

So how did The Baron end up here tonight?  [The Baron and I went to law school together, and we dated briefly earlier this year.  Mr. Exec knew The Baron professionally and despised him because of his allegedly shady business practices.]

Mr. Exec: I know!  I didn't expect to see him here!

Me: I’m sure you had to restrain yourself from kicking his ass!  [We laugh.]

Mr. Exec: I didn’t realize that you had dated him.  You said that you just knew him from law school!

Me: I told you that we had gone out to dinner a few times.  That's all.

Mr. Exec: Did you fuck him?  [I look at him with a confused expression on my face.]  Did you?

Me: No.  Never.  We went out a few times before I realized that he was coke addict.  [As we're talking, I put two and two together that Mr. Exec has been reading my blog.]  Everything that happened is in my blog.

Mr. Exec: Good.  I hate the thought of you with him.

Me: I don't like the thought of it either.  Trust me!

We got into his SUV to head to the other restaurant.  Three of his friends piled in the back seat.  I was feeling quite dizzy because I needed food.  I also was exhausted and had absolutely no patience for how drunk everyone else in the car was.

When we arrived at the bar, the bartender informed us that the kitchen was closed.  Thankfully, my friend, Misty, happened to be dining there and gave me the rest of her food.

I sat with Misty, as Mr. Exec and his friends took the tables around us.  One girl asked where everyone was heading afterwards, and another girl suggested Camelot, a strip club in the neighborhood.  I heard Mr. Exec indicate that he wanted to do that, even mentioning that he and Best Boy should try to get their usual table.  [Insert eye roll here.]

A few minutes later, Mr. Exec asked me if I wanted to go to Camelot.  I politely declined without stating the obvious:

I have breast cancer.  I don't know my treatment plan yet and if I can keep my own breasts.  The LAST thing I want to do tonight is go to a strip club and look at other girls' tits.

Mr. Exec: I’ll go for a little and then come back to the house.

Me: Okay.

Mr. Exec: I’m so proud of you for coming out tonight!  [He kisses me on the lips.]  See…look what you have me doing?  I'm kissing you in public in front of my friends.  [Mr. Exec hates public displays of affection so that was actually a big deal for him.]

He insisted on putting me in a cab and gave the driver double the fare.

Mr. Exec [to the driver]: Make sure you drive very slowly and don’t stop short.  [With my Post-Concussion Syndrome, I get very bad motion sickness.]  Take very good care of her and make sure she gets home safely. 

By the time I arrived home, I felt too drained to ponder or cry about the incredibly odd end to an already tough day.  (Seriously, folks, what kind of guy goes to a strip club on the night that his girl is diagnosed with cancer?  Oh, and don't even get me started on how Mr. Exec grabs asses for professional reasons!) 

I walked my dog and went to bed.  An hour later, Mr. Exec texted to say that he was on his way to my place.

To be continued…

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