A few years ago, a young colleague invited me to a party to meet his boss, executive director of a global nonprofit and a former scion of Wall Street. Some cursory research beforehand revealed that we had a mutual acquaintance who served on a board with the nonprofit leader. When introduced, I brought up the connection, but he displayed no interest. Instead he talked about his volunteer work and tossed around household names like confetti. As he spoke, he scanned the room without so much as a sideways word of inquiry.

As my friend fidgeted next to me, another alpha male approached. I introduced myself, but my friend and I were closed out of the conversation as the two men shared yuks about some insider financier stuff. My companion tried to weave me back into the conversation; he mentioned I was a writer and an artist with a big show on the horizon. My friend did not mention that I also was a potential donor. The men regarded us as if we were heads of iceberg lettuce and returned to their conversation.

I excused myself from the group and then the party. My friend later apologized, as nice men often do for the bad behavior of other men, and then lost his diplomacy, using colorful language to condemn the whole exchange. Weeks later, I got an email from the director with an inquiry about pursuing a grant application with our foundation. It was an easy no.