A Parable

Three men went out to a restaurant for dinner. One is the owner of a company, another a middle manager at that company and the third a lower tier worker for the company. The company owner ordered lobster tail with  baby vegetables  The middle manager ordered a steak with a baked potato. The lower tier worker ordered a hamburger, fries, and a milk shake. All three enjoy their meals and after finishing they are all quite happy.

The waiter brings the check, however it is not itemized, it is merely a single number on a piece of paper. The three men now discuss how to split the bill.

The lower tier worker says "I can't afford to pay one-third of the bill, but I'll give you what I can and one day when I have more I'll take both of you out to dinner."

The middle manager says "I appreciate that and I remember the days when I couldn't afford to pay as much, so though it will be a bit of a strain for me, I'll split the rest of the bill with our company's owner."

The company owner says "I don't understand why I should pay for any of this meal. I give both of you jobs, you should be paying for my meal as a thank you. Besides, you both ate more food than I did."

Unable to come to an agreement on how to split the tab, the three men turn to the restaurant staff and ask them who should pay how much. The chef, the matre'd, and the waiter go back into the kitchen to discuss the matter. A few minutes later there emerges from the kitchen a bevy of shouts and the discordant sounds of the clanging of pots and pans. Finally the noises ceased and the chef, matre'd and waiter returned to the table.

The chef announced they had come to a decision. "Mr. Worker, we know you don't have much money so trying to get anything from you would be futile on our part. Pay ten percent of the bill and we'll be okay with that."

Turning to the other two, the chef continued. "Mr. Middle Manager, we know you work hard and are the backbone of your company's success and we're sure that you remember the days when like Mr. Worker you didn't have much money, so we think you should pay ninety percent of the bill."

"And Mr. Company Owner, we believe that if we ask you to leave only the tip then you will take what money you would have spent on this meal and invest it in a company that will employ more people and those people will in turn come to our restaurant, thus making more money for us in the long run."

Red in the face from anger, the middle manager pulled out his credit card to pay his share. While the middle manager sputters, the company owner beams, pulled out a wad of bills and plunks down a tip that was way more than the entire bill.

"I don't get it", said the middle manager, "why did you leave such a big tip? That's more than the entire bill!"

The company owner smiled. "Yes, it's more than this bill, but less than the bill I would rack up if I had to pay for every meal I eat here. And I eat here almost every day. If once every two years I have to tip these guys like this, I'm still way ahead."

"That's ridiculous!", said the middle manager. "Those three guys split the bill the way they did only because they knew you'd tip them like that. I'll get them fired!"

The company owner laughed. "No you won't. They are so good at what they do, they can't ever be replaced. Replacing them would only bring chaos and uncertainty and ruin this perfectly wonderful restaurant, this restaurant that makes it possible for everyone to eat well and enjoy themselves. Besides, anyone who came in to replace them would be inexperienced and unsure of themselves and you wouldn't want that in a restaurant like this? Now go on home and have a good night's sleep."

The middle manager thought of the great meal he had just had and how he'd like to bring his wife and kids to the restaurant and how what the company owner had said was probably true. Besides he wanted to get home and see who made it into the next round of his favorite reality TV show.  So he signed his credit card slip and walked off into the night.

But.

That night as he twisted in fits of sleep, the middle manager dreamed of blowing up the restaurant, of watching the company owner roast on a spit over coals lit by dollar bills. And a hole grew in his soul, a hole that could not be filled with anything but resentment.