Trading Fine Dining for Light Meals: Collective Regret

I stood on the second floor of the cafeteria, watching employees enjoy their lunch. Their trays were piled with Auralian grain-fed steaks, sous-vide chicken breasts, and dozens of side dishes.

These meals were the work of the world-class chefs I had hired, with each meal valued at 150 dollars per person.

The cafeteria manager walked up beside me and sighed. "Mr. Shaw, today's steaks were overcooked again. Many people just took a bite and threw them away. Such a waste."

I waved him off. "It's fine. As long as they enjoy themselves."

When I first introduced the one-dollar fee, my intention was to remind everyone to appreciate their meals. Clearly, it hadn't worked, but I didn't mind.

My main goal was to keep the promise I made when I started the company and give the people who built this business with me the finest work meals in the city.

Back in my office, my phone buzzed on the desk. In the company's 400-person group chat, the new intern, Lindsey Field, had sent a message.

"All this rich, heavy food is going to give us high blood pressure. I'm a vegetarian, and I can barely handle it. I don't think I'll survive at this rate."

I frowned. The cafeteria served at least five different vegetable stir-fries every day, along with a separate organic salad bar. There was no way she could have missed it.

Before I could respond, the veteran, Robert Wagner, cut in.

"Exactly! Lindsey's right. Do vegetarians even have rights here? Our salaries won't even cover future hypertension treatments!"

Then he turned on me. "And besides, the neighboring company's cafeteria is completely free. Why should we still pay one dollar? Mr. Shaw, that's not fair."

The chat exploded.

"Yeah, one dollar is still money. Why should we pay?"

"They say it's for our health, but it just feels like they don't want us to enjoy our meals."

"I've been wanting light meals for ages. Free salads taste the best!"

I watched the messages scroll across the screen and felt absurdity settle over me.

Later that afternoon, a knock came at my office door.

Lindsey walked in confidently, standing her ground. "Mr. Shaw, I'm here on behalf of the staff's health. We really can't keep eating like this. We want the company to provide free, healthy light meals instead of food that puts a strain on our bodies."

While she talked, I noticed her most recent social media update. A photo from an upscale Halonese restaurant accompanied by the caption, "Nothing says hard-earned success like sea urchin and premium beef."

I chose not to call her out.

Near the end of the day, I passed the break room and overheard Robert whispering to Lindsey.

"Well done! Just focus on the vegetarian angle and pin him down on the moral high ground. This is going to get big.

"He'll have to compromise for the sake of his reputation. Maybe they'll even convert the cafeteria budget into cash allowances. You'll get a cut too."

Lindsey smiled smugly. "Don't worry, Robert. I've got this."

I returned to my office and felt a jolt. I refreshed my short video app, and a new clip popped up. Lindsey had posted it herself.

She held her phone so the camera focused only on the sizzling lamb chops and beef brisket in the cafeteria. The salad bar and vegetable stations were completely out of frame.

She squeezed out two fake tears and added a sad soundtrack to the video.

"Help! The company is forcing me to eat meat. I just want to be a healthy vegetarian."