Eyes wide open, a ‘cool girl’ looks for peace in Harvey Weinstein’s aftermath
- Writer Angela Meng’s traumatic encounter with the Hollywood producer left her lurching through suspicion, anger and moral outrage
- In the years since, she has tried to find the words to make sense of that moment in a Hong Kong hotel room when her body became suspended in time
A few days later, at the Mandarin Oriental, his assistant arrived 30 minutes late and informed me that Harvey was not feeling very well but also very busy and could I come upstairs to interview him? She led me to the suite, where Harvey talked animatedly about his new Netflix drama, Marco Polo. He handed me a portable DVD player and headphones and I put them on to watch the preview.
When I looked up, his assistant had gone. Harvey was also gone, re-emerging from the bedroom in a bathrobe. “You seem like a cool girl, not one of those bimbos walking around here,” he began.
The rest of the story sounds redundant now.
I reached for the perfunctory “thank you but I have a boyfriend”. He took my hand and simulated oral sex, showcasing his prowess at the craft with his eyes closed, tongue circling my palm. When I jerked my hand away, he asked if I’d rather do that to him. No? What about taking a shower together? I got up to go and he blocked the door.
I’ve wondered why I didn’t try harder to leave. The most honest answer I can come up with is that it felt rude for me to do so. Here was a nude, middle-aged man, clutching his erect penis, professing his admiration and radiating insecurity. “Is it because I’m fat?” he asked me.
