The Dinner Roll
There was a time I was invited to the White House for a private dinner with the President.
As a well-respected businessman, with a factory that produces consumer goods for both the United States and countries around the world, I smiled when I received the invitation.
Although there was some talk that my industry was being scrutinized by the administration, I paid it no mind. After all, we live in a free country, and there is nothing to fear if we have not broken the law. My business was completely legit - all of my wealth was earned honestly over the years, so an invitation to have dinner with the President would simply be an honor.
I drove to the White House imagining what the evening would be like. Perhaps the President would thank me for my past support. Or for running such a prosperous business. I employed many people, and brought additional revenue into our country. Surely he would thank me for setting an example for others to follow as they too pursued the American dream.
After making my way through security, I was able to check my coat before a warm greeting by the Chief of Staff. We then joined the President in an exquisite formal dining room. He smiled warmly, shook my hand, then asked me to please take a seat. We sat across from each other at a table draped in fine white linen. The Great Seal was embossed upon the china. Uniformed staff arrived in unison to tend to our needs.
The meal was then served; however, I was startled when my waiter suddenly reached out, plucked the dinner roll off my plate and began to eat it as he walked back toward the kitchen.
"Sorry 'bout that," said the President. "Andrew is very hungry."
I didn't know what to say or think, but as I looked into the calm brown eyes across from me, I suddenly felt petty for getting upset over a dinner roll. It was, after all, just a roll, and I had a full meal ahead of me. "Of course," I conceded. "I certainly don't want the one who feeds me to be hungry himself."
At this point I decided to take a sip of my wine; however, another waiter reached forward, took the glass away and began to drink.
"His brother, Eric, is very thirsty," said the President.
I didn't say anything. 'The President is testing my compassion,' I thought. So I withheld my comments and decided to play along. I did not want to seem unkind.
Then my plate full of food was whisked away before I had even tasted a bite.
"Eric's children are also quite hungry."
I knew they were up to something. Then suddenly I came crashing to the floor. The chair I was sitting in had literally been pulled out from under me! I was shocked, and hurt, but I managed to pick myself up and brush myself off as I watched someone carry the chair out of the room.
"And their poor grandmother, she can't stand for extended periods of time."
By now I was hurting, embarassed, confused, angry, and hungry, unsure of what to say or do so I excused myself, with a polite but awkward smile. I had obviously been invited to the White House to be made a fool of. I went back for my coat, only to find that it had been taken.
I turned back toward the President.
"Their grandfather doesn't like the cold."
I wanted to shout, "But that was MY coat!" Yet when I looked at the placid smiling face of my host, the President of the United States, I thought maybe, just maybe, I was making a mountain out of a molehill. After all, I had plenty of good meals, a houseful of furniture, and more than one coat at home. So I spread my arms out helplessly while smiling and shrugging my shoulders like 'what's a guy to do?'.
That's when I had the thought to check for my wallet, and sure enough, it too was gone. I began to panic, quickly excused myself, walking briskly over to a phone I had seen on an elegant side table.
Call after call confirmed my credit cards had been maxed out, my bank account was empty, my retirement and equity portfolios had vanished, and my wife let me know that some men in uniform had escorted her out of our home. To add insult to injury, the waiters and their families were moving in!
After learning all of this information, I lowered the phone into its cradle and turned to face the President who was still enjoying his meal. As I opened my mouth to speak, he said rather matter of factly:
"Andrew's whole family has made some bad financial decisions. They have no money for retirement and they desperately need a new house. They recently defaulted on a subprime mortgage so I took pity on them. There are eight of them and only two of you so I told them they could have your home. It is clear, and America agrees, that they need it more than you do."
My hands were shaking. I felt faint. I stumbled back to the table and knelt on the floor.
The President cheerfully cut his meat, ate his steak, and drank his wine. I lowered my eyes and stared at the small grey circles on the tablecloth where my tears were now falling.
"By the way," he added , "I have just signed an Executive Order nationalizing your factories. I'm firing you as head of your business. I will be appointing someone new to operate the firm. It is for the good of our country and the benefit of others. It is only logical for me to tend to the needs of all mankind. There are many Erics and Andrews out there and I believe that the Government can do a better job than you at running your business and creating new jobs. We can not fail because we can not go bankrupt. However, we can not wait a moment longer. We need to spread your wealth around now."
I shook my head in disbelief. The President then licked his spoon, returning it to empty dish which had cradeled his crème Brule. He drank the last drops of his wine, then as the table was cleared, he lit a cigar, leaned back in his chair, and simply looked at me.
I must have been a sad sight to see. I clung to the edge of the table as if it were a ledge and I could not decide whether to save my life or jump into the abyss. I thought of the years behind me, of the life I had lived, the life I know I had earned from a lifetime of discipline, personal risk and day-to-day struggle.
Why was I being punished? How could I have allowed everything to be taken from me? from my wife? from my children and my children's children? What kind of a sick game was this?! I was obviously the biggest loser of all time. 'How ironic' I thought, as I looked across the table noticing that there certainly was no game board between us.
'What,' I wondered, 'could I have done to stop or prevent this from happening?'
As if he could read my mind by answering the unspoken thought and questions, the President suddenly cocked his head, locked his empty eyes onto mine, and chuckled wryly as he smiled and said:
"You should have stopped me at the dinner roll."
