Diagnosis Night

On June 22, 2010, I received the call from my doctor, informing me that I had early-stage breast cancer.  When I hung up the phone, I called two of my best friends.  Although I had plans that evening to go to an event with Mr. Exec, my girlfriends and I decided to meet so that we could process the news together.

Mr. Exec was helping to organize the event, and I didn’t want to ruin his evening.  I sent him a text, apologizing for not being able to make it and asking him to call me afterward.  He knew me well enough to know that something was wrong and called me right away.

Mr. Exec: Tell me what’s going on.  Did you hear from the doctor?

Me: Yes.

Mr. Exec: What did she say?

Me: It’s early-stage breast cancer.

[Long pause.]

I didn’t want to tell you until later, though, since you have a big night ahead of you.

Mr. Exec: I’m glad you told me.  You know that I want to know everything that’s going on.  We’ll get through this together.

Me: I know.

Mr. Exec then asked me what the next steps were.  I told him as much as I knew at that point and asked if he could come over the following evening.

Mr. Exec: Of course.

I headed up to my apartment and proceeded to call one of my girlfriends.  The more we talked, the more I realized that I didn’t want or need to sit around with my girls that night crying.  I wasn’t dying.  I didn’t even know what my treatment plan would be yet.  It didn’t seem constructive to expend a lot of emotion over unknown variables.

I decided to meet my girlfriends the following day for lunch and go to the event as planned.  I took some time to cry and call a few other friends before I got dressed and walked over to the restaurant where the event was being held.  When I arrived at the venue, I noticed a very tall man by the doorway. 

“Oh My God!” I exclaimed to myself.  “What’s The Baron doing here?”

The Baron and I had gone to law school together back in the 1990s.  We reconnected earlier this year and went out several times.  The “relationship” was doomed from the start, though.

I found it especially surprising that The Baron was at this event since he and Mr. Exec don’t get along for reasons Mr. Exec told me on our first date.  When I walked inside, I said a quick hello to The Baron so as not to seem rude, but I kept it at that.  (What else more was there to say to him by this point?)  

I then scanned the room and noticed a lot of friends were there.  I naturally went over to Mr. Exec first.

Me [to the woman to whom Mr. Exec was talking]: Excuse me.  I don’t mean to interrupt.  I just wanted to say a quick hello to Mr. Exec.

Mr. Exec [smiling with a look of surprise]: You came?  I’m so glad!  [He gives me a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek.]

Mr. Exec returned to his conversation, and I ordered a soda and caught up with a girlfriend.  When Mr. Exec finished, he came over to me, gave me another hug and said:

I’m so proud of you!  It means so much to me that you came tonight, and it says so much about how you’ll approach this.  You’re not going to let this get the best of you!  [I nod my head in agreement.]  I’m going to take you home later and fuck the shit out of you!

Me [smiling]: That’s just what I wanted to hear.

Two hours later, the event was winding down, and I was starving.  The plan was to go get food with Mr. Exec, his best friend, Best Boy, and Best Boy’s date, Melanie*.  Best Boy, Melanie and I were ready to go, but Mr. Exec was still schmoozing and drinking.  I was getting a bit light-headed as I often do when I need to eat so when Mr. Exec finished talking to a colleague, I approached him.

Me [to Mr. Exec]: Can we go now?  I really need some food.

Mr. Exec: Sure.  Let me go to the restroom and then we can leave.

As Mr. Exec walked to the restroom, a woman approached him.  She was in her mid-late 40s, had a very toned body and dressed like a cougar.  I watched their interaction from across the bar. 

As they were talking, she put her arm around Mr. Exec’s waist.  He put his arm around her waist.  She placed her other hand on his chest and started playing with the buttons on his shirt.  He moved his hand from her waist to her ass.  She took her hand from his chest to his waist and put her hand underneath his shirt.  She started rubbing the small of his back.  He squeezed her ass.

I wasn’t sure what to make of any of this, but it didn’t sit well with me.  I felt like I was watching a movie and wanted a better view.  I moved my seat around so that I could look right at them.  I wasn’t particularly close so they didn’t notice that I was staring as I saw Mr. Exec grab her ass a second time.

Then a third.

Then a fourth.

And then a fifth.

By the fifth ass grab, I was done!  I walked up to Best Boy and Melanie, gave them both hugs and said:

I’m leaving.  I don’t need to sit around watching this.  Have a good night.

To be continued…

* I gave Best Boy's girl the nickname of "Melanie." In retrospect, that might have been confusing since my web designer's real name is Melanie. They are not one in the same.

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