I have just given a lecture as part of an international workshop, presenting the results of many years of research. Afterwards, the internationally renowned French Professor X congratulates me on my lecture – of course, I am happy about this. Very quickly, however, it becomes clear why he actually approached me. He had noticed with regret that I was wearing a ring on my finger, he says, and do I speak French? The best way to learn a language is to have a lover. This sort of talk goes on for quite a while. No trace of interest in an exchange about the actual content of my presentation. I don’t know how to react and become angry with myself (although X is the douche in this). I no longer have a good feeling about my successful presentation. I feel like shit now, somehow out of place. Later, I tell a (very nice) male colleague, who was actually standing next to me during the conversation with X, what happened. He didn’t notice anything. A while later, however, he tells me in disbelief how X had expressed self-pity (in front of a small group of men) over the fact that it had always been so easy for another famous (and now deceased) colleague to find an affair partner. What annoys me, apart from these scenes, is that I wrote an e-mail to one of the organizers of the workshop (who, among other things, is investigating the discrimination of women in the context of our common research topic) afterwards in which I described the incidents. Maybe we could think about how to protect young female scientists from X if he keeps getting invited. A short answer, a simple, “Oh, that sounds really annoying,” would have been enough for me. Instead: Crickets.