I've Got This

So the way it was explained to me, the interaction when something like this:

Uber driver: “Where do you work?”
Passenger: “[Technology Company*].”
U: “You work for [Technology Company]? I have a question.”
P: [winces and braces for impact]
U: “I’m messaging someone on Facebook. How can I get their physical location?”
P: “They have to give you permission.”
U: “No but without their permission.”
P: “Uh... I suppose you could craft a link... whhhy though?”
U: “I’m talking with this girl and...”
P: “You can let me out here.”

From there, the conversation turned to just how creepy was that driver, anyway, and what should be done in terms of reporting him to the service.

But a little while later, a question occurred to me: Who does this guy think he is? What gives him the impression that, given that women are often hyper-vigilant about their personal safety and responsive to anything that may be construed as threatening or even overly persistent, he is going to be someone who would be welcomed when he shows up on the doorstep of a person who has deliberately not shared with him how to find her? I'm pretty sure that not even Rico Suave could pull this off without winding up on the sharp end of a restraining order, and so it seems strange that some random Uber driver could get away with it.

And this strikes me as something that we often hear about when it comes to high-profile people accused of sexual misconduct, like Harvey Weinstein, but seems likely to be much more widespread: an inflated opinion of one's own desirability. Of course, that's not all of it. What is now understood to be creepy stalking was, once upon a time, considered romantic. Where by "once upon a time," I mean the mid-1970s. Granted, that was a while ago, but in the grand scheme of things, it's fairly rapid social change. And because of that, the overall idea that this is the sort of thing that endears one to another human being likely has yet to be extinguished.

And I wonder if this is wrapped up in the idea of being "special." Does that sense of being different from other people, or, at least, different and special to someone, give people the sense that things that would simply become a dumpster-fire-flavored train wreck when other people do them are going to work better when they do them? Or is it a confidence in the idea that when other people screw things up, it's because of some flaw in those other people that the would-be Romeo/Juliet is free of?

I don't get it. One of my mantas in life is "Learn from the mistakes of others; you won't live long enough to make them all yourself." And I've been burned before when I've forgotten that. And so I'm always curious when people decide that they've figured it all out, and that they have the secret. And maybe that's the explanation that I've been looking for: The idea that there's a secret, and that once you understand the secret it's all taken care of. Or maybe hope simply blinds people to what would otherwise be clear and obvious dangers. Which would explain why it was in that jar, wouldn't it?

*A company that shall remain nameless, but is not Facebook.