Me Too Chic

Bubbles floated to the top of the flute. Women in evening gowns and men in suits all looked at one another daringly, conspicuously. Colors swirled as bodies twirled on the dance floor. This evening seemed to be a wash.

“I’m on my fourth,” Washington Boles admitted.

Scott Gourly chuckled and imbibed his single malt whisky.

“What’s that, Gourly?”

“I’ve had six in a week,” he bragged.

“Oh, what were they? Light touches? a glance held too long?”

“I touched her shoulders. Full on pat. It was magnificent, I think?”

“What about you Vin? What’d you do?”

“None of what you creeps have done against women. I take that seriously. I would never violate a woman in the fashion you ‘gentlemen’ describe.”

“Oh! Mr. Knight in Shining Armor comes to pay us losers a visit,” Seahorn Orb observed.

“You’re all out of your mind. Forget your jobs or lack thereof. I know you’ve got money tied up somewhere and none of what you did was criminal, but you went against a code of morality,” Vincenzo Danté explained. “You all have no shame about yourselves. Boasting about how many women you groped or called a name. You all should have been brought low. How can you have confidence with no obvious self-esteem? How can you talk to your kids, your sons about how to treat women?”

“I’ve got four daughters,” Dennis Caul admitted.

“Even better. How are you going to sit them down and look them in the eye and explain the difference between a perfect gentleman and a predator? What will you do when she comes home with smeared makeup and her eyes are all puffy from crying over some boy who assaulted her?”

Caul looked cross. He didn’t say anything.

Orb exhaled cigar smoke in Danté’s face.

“What are you a cop? What is this? We’re businessmen. The most hated specimen in the American lexicon. We get shitted for everything and receive little to no thanks. If we want to hunt our salmon with honey on it, then that’s what a bear’s going to do. What are you…a guppy?”

Danté smiled. “You can use your cute metaphors all you want. It doesn’t detract from the fact that we businessmen are maligned because of behavior like you all display. Besides the fact that there is money to be made, it’s this Me Too movement that has gained steam because of powerful men who can’t sometimes literally keep it in their pants.”

“Is that so?” Orb asked, he took another puff.

“I earn my money and I’m proud of every comma in my account. That’s what the world gets wrong. With the added confusion of how money is made there is the idea of men in positions that warrant them large sums and free reign to attack whomever they wish. Business is about respect and mutual exchange. You bastards obviously lost that idealism.”

“I want to stop. I’m not seeing a shrink if that’s what you’re implying,” Caul said.

“I’m not implying anything. I’m telling you to shape up while you still have c-suite roles. They can be taken away from you. Your empires can crumble and the death of your dynasties may soon be at hand. So stop the showboating about the women you’ve ‘taken down’ or felt up. Remember that you’re supposed to be professionals and grown ups and they’re professionals and grown ups, too.”

Caul sipped the last of his whisky. “I don’t know. I’m having a good time. No woman has actually spoken up about it despite the Me Too stuff. I just don’t want to ever stop.”