The Line and #MeToo

I've been thinking about Harvey Weinstein and all of the men who have recently been declared deviants and creeps at best, and sexual predators, rapists, molesters and criminals at worst. Do these guys think they are bad when they harass women, or are they even thinking at all? Do these guys have a misaligned vision of themselves compared to what the world really thinks of them? I am trying to figure this out. Did Harvey Weinstein in his mind imagine himself to be Romeo, because he's not. Where is the line between nice and disgusting? Here is a graph--

What do the guys in blue have in common that the guys in gray don't, aside from the fact the blue guys are fictional characters, two of which were created by women? I could write about why the cretins are cretins, but instead I'll focus on what makes a nice guy...

• Consent. When Elizabeth Bennett told Darcy to back off, he did. Instead of secretly stalking her, he used his power to help her troubled sister without seeking credit. After he did a bunch of nice stuff, he gently asked her again if she would reconsider and if she said no, he'd never bother her again. There is a reason this guy had been the leading romantic character for the past two hundred years.
• Genuine affection for the other party. Romeo. Brings meaning to the phrase "I'd die for you." Mr. Darcy gets points here, too. He loves Elizabeth for her strength and intelligence. 
• Caring, kindness and respect for fellow humans. Atticus Finch was a widower, but he was also one of the most decent humans ever created in the mind of a novelist, at least in To Kill a Mockingbird. I haven't read Go Set a Watchman.

Sexual harassment and discrimination is everywhere, and it is sometimes so subtle we don't even notice it. I tried to ignore the #MeToo campaign, not because I think a vast majority of women have never been harassed, but because the harassment and discrimination I experienced was so much less than the women victimized by Harvey Weinstein. Those women deserve their moments where the world listens quietly and empathetically without me chiming in. Yet, everyone chiming in gave those women more power. 

So here is my #MeToo story, but it was a potential crisis averted thanks to help from a co-worker.  When I was twenty-six or so, I was scheduled to go to (pre-Katrina) New Orleans on a business trip with a senior manager at the firm where I worked. The senior manager was fifteen to twenty years older than I was at the time.

He smirked and leered and said, "We are going to have a lot of fun on this trip." New Orleans is a great city, but I imagined going to dinner with this guy, him drinking too much and meeting me trying to pry him off of me. 

I left this D---'s office and walked into Mike's office and shut the door. Mike was another one of my managers. (In this firm, I worked for several managers, partners and senior managers.) "I don't feel comfortable going to New Orleans with D---," I said. One sentence. That was it. I didn't need to explain or cry or wring my hands.

He looked at me and said, "I have a giant project I need you to work on so you need to cancel your trip."

"Thanks," I said and I left his office. And that was it. I told D--- I had other work to do and canceled my plane ticket. 

I wasn't smarter or braver than other women, but I was luckier--lucky to have had a colleague I could talk to and who had my back.