That hand creeping up your leg at the state dinner is Donald Trump’s. Your country (or career or cause) desperately needs the cachet he can bestow–but right now, it is the matter of this hand–his hand (now not concerned about his germophobic obsession!) grabbing and stroking your thigh, making its way upward under the White House silver, all while he makes small talk. His hand creeps with every “great.”
What you do? Nobody goes the lady’s room in the middle of a state dinner. The secret service, conditioned over the years, are clearly no help. (You cannot privately whisper in his ear; that breaks protocol.) But letting him continue is not an act of diplomacy or patriotism; this is not the merit that you wanted to use to achieve your goal for self/cause/country.
Beware: Trump can do worse things than bad jokes at Catholic dinners.
Don’t Take Donald Trump to Dinner http://nyti.ms/2ewv7Ao