♪ (WHIMSICAL MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
JOHN WILSON: Hey, New York.
There's nothing like a relaxing meal
at the end of a long day.
And if you want to eat with other people,
you usually find yourself at a restaurant.
The combination of eating and socializing
can be absolute ecstasy.
But when the bill finally arrives,
what should be a simple transaction
often turns into a torturous calculation
based on who ate what and how they should pay for it.
We like to pretend everything's fine
once the bill is settled.
But someone is always quietly suffering,
knowing that they had to pay too much.
And they wonder if it all could have been avoided.
But I figured someone out there had a solution.
So I went on an expedition to figure out
if anybody knows the right way to split the check.
♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪
(INAUDIBLE)
JOHN: Figuring out what we owe each other
is one of the most challenging parts
of living in a healthy society.
♪ (QUIET MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
When you get into a car crash,
there's a debt that has to be settled,
and we can't be trusted to figure it out on our own.
Nobody likes to admit that they're at fault
when confronted with a massive bill,
and even if you agree to split it evenly,
someone might still end up feeling like a sucker.
This is why we have certain authorities
that tell us who owes what.
But when it comes to group dining,
there's no one to turn to.
And everyone is expected to already know
how to figure things out fairly.
People usually don't want to make a big deal
over a couple of bucks,
but over time, these tiny injustices can add up
and create long-term resentment.
In a perfect world, we would all order the same dish
and everyone would know how much to pay.
But the nature of group dining is frenzied and disorderly.
And there are way too many factors
to keep track of what everyone should pay when the check comes.
Here's a familiar scenario.
♪ (JAUNTY MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
You get all dolled up to go out.
And then you call a friend to make plans for dinner.
At first, it's, uh, just the two of you,
but then he invites his friend,
and that friend invites another friend.
And before you know it, you've completely lost count
of how many people you've agreed to eat with.
Somebody always invites
that one friend that nobody wants there,
but he usually just keeps to himself.
Someone begins the meal
by ordering some soup dumplings for the table,
even though you didn't want any.
And an order of tofu for the vegetarians.
And someone else gets a basket of shrimp.
The drunks will start ordering booze.
And even though you're trying to be frugal,
all you can do is quietly panic
as you watch your friends run up a massive tab.
You order the smallest entree on the menu,
hoping to start a trend.
But that doesn't stop everyone else from going big.
Other people might only want to eat organic food,
which can be very expensive.
And one of your friends might even have the nerve
to return their entree to the kitchen,
which may eliminate their meal from the grand total.
And then someone might come to the meal really late,
and they just start to pick at everyone else's food.
And then someone else actually has to leave early
and asks someone to cover for them.
And at this point,
it's impossible to tell, uh, who consumed what,
but nobody seems to care.
And when the waiter finally puts down the check,
the guy who ordered four beers
declares that you should all split it evenly.
♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪
When you work up the courage to look at the bill,
you find yourself wondering how it's costing you 30 bucks
for a pierogi and a seltzer.
And you feel intense regret for agreeing to an equal split.
♪ (TENSE MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
And you begin to wonder why it always turns out this way.
Are you not ordering enough?
Or is everyone else trying to swindle you?
Maybe the people who ate more stuff
could throw in a little extra.
But why is it always impolite
to ask people for money that they owe you?
And you start thinking about
that cab ride you-- you didn't take from the airport
because you were trying to save money.
And you begin to resent your friends for their greed.
And you enter a dissociative fugue
as you yearn for the day
when you can finally escape this vessel you call a body.
♪ (MUSIC ENDS) ♪
Until you finally snap out of it and throw your friend a dollar.
♪ (TRIUMPHANT NOTE PLAYS) ♪
For weeks, I observed people in restaurants,
trying to see if there was a fair way to split the check
that I hadn't thought of before.
But what I discovered is that,
without some kind of authority figure to look to,
the dining experience
becomes a game of winners and losers.
And only the savviest diners, uh,
know how to avoid overpaying.
♪ (MELLOW MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
Some people will stand their ground
and refuse to pay a penny more
than the exact amount of what they ate--
of what they owe.
Uh, being this anal could initiate
a much more exhausting audit
of exactly how much each person ingested,
and inevitably cost you friends.
Others will look for their wallet
for an abnormally long amount of time,
in the hopes that they can get out of paying entirely.
This is a crafty maneuver
because it gives your dining partner
the time and opportunity
to object to any contribution that you're pretending to make.
They'll also say that, uh, you don't owe them anything.
Because your friendship is precious.
But a seasoned pro will go to great lengths
to avoid ever revealing their wallet at all.
This involves filling your pockets
with several decoys, uh, to prolong the illusion
of an authentic wallet hunt.
But this strategy's popularity is also its weakness,
as many will recognize this bit of theater you're putting on
and wait it out,
uh, forcing you to eventually chip in.
♪ (MUSIC ENDS) ♪
But I found that professionals have
a much more sophisticated way of paying less for dinner.
♪ (QUIET MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
Professionals love to write things off
for tax purposes,
giving them an economic advantage
over everybody else.
But telling someone that you're about to expense dinner
is the perfect way to suck the romance out of any meal.
It seems like it strains relationships
once money is involved.
And there's something about the four walls of a restaurant
that puts our ideas of fairness on full display.
♪ (MUSIC ENDS) ♪
But it was my birthday recently,
and a bunch of friends took me out
to a nice Italian restaurant,
and it was actually very fun.
We got some wine and a, uh, few appetizers,
and I ordered the chicken alfredo.
At one point, I got excited because the waitress started
walking a cupcake towards me with a candle in it,
but, uh, it turned out to be
for someone else's birthday dinner.
GROUP: (SINGING) ♪ Happy birthday to you ♪
(CHEERING AND APPLAUSE)
JOHN: All my friends thought it was funny.
I didn't think it was so funny, though.
It's never clear if the birthday boy should pay,
so I kept my mouth shut.
But when the waiter brought the check over,
one of my friends put everything onto a single card
and everyone else paid him on their phones.
At first, I felt proud of my friends
for making it seem so effortless.
But then I realized the person who paid
had actually used a business debit card,
which means that he could actually profit off the meal
after he files his taxes.
♪ (OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
Why were they using my party as a way to make money?
They were trying to squeeze every last drop
out of my special night.
I felt sick.
It seemed like more of a business opportunity
to these people than an historic milestone.
There they were, flashing their cards,
hoping to get points.
I was an expense.
And I started to think about
what other precious memories of mine
were secretly an expense for someone else.
Did someone write off those fireworks that we enjoyed?
Or that funny night at the movies?
Did someone write off the gift card they gave me
for the foot-- uh, the fish thing?
♪ (MUSIC FADES) ♪
Maybe I'd been going about this the wrong way.
I've been in perfect harmony with the IRS my whole life
while everyone else was discovering ways
to cheat the system.
♪ (ELECTRONIC MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
Maybe it was time for me to grow up
and start looking for financial loopholes of my own.
So I met up with an accountant to figure out once and for all,
uh, what was for business and what was for pleasure.
But he was in between offices at the time,
and he asked me to rent a workspace for him
so that he could look like a professional.
Uh, so I did.
♪ (MUSIC FADES) ♪
If I film a dinner with friends, uh...
could I write it off?
That's pretty cool. Um...
I think it's not a 100 percent yes,
but I probably would say, "Yes, why not?"
Your occupation is you're a filmmaker.
You told me moments ago that you make documentaries.
You make documentaries of whatever you feel
is right and good, so if your documentary
is about you hanging out with your friend,
and then you're going to try to possibly upload that
on your social media for the sake of attracting,
you know, channels like HBO to-- to knock on your door,
then why not? I view it as a...
as, like, a marketing or promotion type of expense.
JOHN: What about if I--
If I film myself buying Listerine?
Uh, could I-- Could I write that off?
That's pretty cool. Um...
If you can justify it with good faith,
then I believe it's a business expense.
JOHN: This sounded like a great idea.
So, with my accountant's blessing,
I was now able to write off all the stuff
that I just normally spend money on.
♪ (JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
All I had to do was film a few seconds
of every single thing that I did,
and it all magically turned into a business expense.
Just like that.
And if the IRS wanted to audit me,
they would have to look through all my footage,
every single shot.
And you'd better believe that there's a lot--
a whole lot more where this came from.
♪ (MUSIC ENDS) ♪
I wondered what else I could write off.
Oh, wow.
How much does something like this cost?
JEWELER: Thirty-five thousand dollar.
JOHN: What-- what would this do for me?
It's a great deal.
JOHN: I always wanted a neon sign,
so I went by this place down the street from me
to see if they might have any ready-mades I could buy.
The guy in there was really friendly,
but when I told him about my plan to abuse the tax system,
he got very upset
and started lecturing me about income inequality.
If I was, um, you know, a millionaire making millions...
I would understand that my money's gotta go.
"I'm-- I'm-- I'm doing a little better,
so maybe I gotta pay a little more. Gee!"
You know, you gotta fucking pay.
Because everybody's gotta live better.
Everybody.
JOHN: He kind of took the wind out of my sails,
but I told him that I still wanted to buy something.
I made it for a lady.
Apparently, she didn't pay her taxes,
'cause she never came back for it.
(GROANS)
Ta-da!
JOHN: Oh, wow.
Da-da-da! (LAUGHS)
You know, that's a nice blue glow.
You put that in your bedroom,
you know, you turn it on at the right moment.
♪ (SOMBER MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
JOHN: I started to feel really selfish.
Maybe I hadn't thought through the consequences
of a scheme like this.
And I was ruining the mood for everybody else.
Was I the guy at the table who was eating the most
but paying the least?
Or are we all this selfish
when we think we can get away with it?
If everyone paid as little tax as possible,
who would collect the trash?
Or keep the trains running on time?
And if nobody paid their taxes...
who would tell the crossing guards to cross?
Even if we had rules for splitting the check...
there will probably always be someone
who finds a loophole and ruins it for everyone else.
And maybe looking for a fair solution was hopeless.
♪ (MUSIC FADES) ♪
I was walking around my neighborhood recently,
and I noticed that there was a place
called the Referee Store.
I wasn't really sure what they sold,
but I figured maybe there was something small in there
that I could write off.
Supposedly, it's the only ref store in New York City,
and they had more whistles than I ever could've dreamed of.
This one's called the Sonik Blast.
It's really high pitched. We also have Fuziuns.
Fuziun just means a combination of two whistles.
Cushion mouth grip, just to protect anyone
who likes to bite down on the tips of the whistle.
We have a Fingergrip Classic, more of a mellow sounding.
Volleyball, handball, football and soccer.
JOHN: How much is this one?
REF STORE EMPLOYEE: This one goes for about 52.95.
JOHN: This is a funny shape for a whistle. So...
So, how many referees are there in New York?
So, if I'm going about eight million people in about New York,
I would say about 250,000 referees.
-JOHN: 250,000? -Yes.
-JOHN: In New York? -There are a lot more referees
out there than you actually think.
JOHN: The city was crawling with refs, and I had no idea.
If anyone knew about fairness,
it had to be one of these people.
Maybe the answer was in here.
Uh, is there a place I can go where referees hang out
if I want to meet one of them?
I mean, on the weekend, you'd probably go
just to a local field or park.
-JOHN: Does he wanna get in? -Who's that?
JOHN: Are you-- Are you a referee?
JOHN: Hi.
JOHN: Do you ever go out to eat with other referee friends?
Uh...
JOHN: Oh, really?
JOHN: You're gonna have a referee dinner party?
JOHN: Where do you-- Where do you have it?
♪ (QUIET MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
JOHN: This could be it.
A dinner made up entirely of referees.
As far as I knew,
an all-referee dinner had never been captured on film.
Maybe this could act as a guide for the rest of us,
and future generations
would use it as a bible for how we ought to behave.
If there are 8.6 million people in New York,
that makes roughly 3 percent of them referees.
Any one of these people could be a ref.
Hiding in plain sight.
Why don't they just reveal themselves?
They could settle any number of disputes
about check splitting or taxation.
If only we could know who they are.
♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪
The dinner was happening at a VFW hall in Long Island.
And I got permission to attend.
I even dressed up for the occasion.
Even though when I got there, uh...
I realized that nobody else, uh, there had dressed like a ref.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
Someone even told me that I was dressed up
for the wrong sport
because these were all soccer refs,
and I was dressed like a basketball ref.
As I had hoped, everyone was extremely punctual
and showed up right on time.
♪ (UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
At the beginning of the dinner,
they were, uh, selling tickets for a raffle for the refs.
A reffle.
And they were reffling off a big screen TV.
And there were a bunch of high rollers.
The dinner was buffet style,
which seemed like the perfect choice
for such a fair minded, orderly brunch.
All of the food was presented at perfect right angles.
And every single piece of ziti was evenly sauced.
This was about to be a masterclass
in considerate dining,
and I had a front-row seat.
-(OVERLAPPING CHATTER) -All right, guys.
Come on, come on, come on, come on, let's have seat.
Let's have a seat.
Come on, guys. Let's go. Let's go. Let's go.
All right. All right. All right.
All right, guys, we gotta get going.
There we go. Let's go. All right, come on, come on,
guys, guys, oh!
Guys, guys, guys!
Come on!
Guys! Oh!
Guys!
Well, come on!
Yo! Yo! Come on, man!
Stop. It's embarrassing to have some, uh,
people are in this room that are watching us,
and we're acting like kids.
Stop it right now.
(STAMMERS) If you-- you don't-- We--
If we don't finish the-- the meeting,
we are not gonna serve any food.
So it's up to you.
(OVERLAPPING CHATTER)
REFEREE 1: Food first! Food first! Then the meeting.
JOHN: When everyone finally settled down,
the first 15 minutes or so of the event
was devoted to berating the referees
for not following the rules.
First of all, the reports have to be on time.
Uh, next,
it's your responsibility to get paid before the game.
If you don't get paid,
we are not gonna be able to help you.
You are on your own.
JOHN: It seemed like things were off to a rocky start,
but maybe they were all just hungry.
At least the line for the buffet was orderly,
except for maybe one or two people that, uh, cut the line,
but I assume they, uh, that they had a good reason.
While the elders ate in silence,
I thought it was a good opportunity to learn
the code that the refs lived by,
but all they seemed to wanna do
was complain about the association.
Are-- You're still waiting on payment from somebody?
JOHN: What happened?
JOHN: Wait. Who didn't pay you?
REFEREE 2:
(LAUGHS)
REFEREE 2:
JOHN: You're waiting on a payment, too?
JOHN: It seemed like the refs felt so cheated
that they started seeking payback
however they could.
Some stuff to go?
-I get my money's worth. -JOHN: Yeah.
You have to get your money's worth.
JOHN: People were packing up multiple containers of food
before they even finished their first.
Others even started taking as many soda cans
as they could possibly--
as they could fit into a bag,
because they wanted to bleed this party for all it was worth.
Maybe this wasn't gonna be the model of fairness
I was looking for after all.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
The one glimmer of hope that the refs had
was the prospect of winning a television.
SHERMAN: This is the big one!
This is the big one! Fifty-inch TV!
ASSOCIATION MEMBER: Final prize!
JOHN: But before the winning ticket was revealed,
the refs were treated to one final indignity.
ASSOCIATION MEMBER: Hold on! Hold on! Hold on!
-Time out. -Before we raffle this,
make sure all the garbage is off in the garbage can.
Let's do that now before we raffle it,
because then you guys are gonna run out of here
and everybody else cleans.
JOHN: I was stunned to learn that the refs
could not even be trusted to clean up after themselves
unless they were bribed with a flatscreen TV.
ORGANIZER: Don't leave anything on the table or on the floor!
We're not here to clean up, please.
JOHN: After the room was deemed clean enough
and the winner was finally announced...
Five-nine-four.
SHERMAN: Five-nine-four!
RAFFLE ANNOUNCER: Five-nine-four!
-SHERMAN: Five-nine-four! -(CROWD GROANING)
JOHN: The room erupted into chaos
when everyone discovered, uh, the prize was going to
a high-ranking affiliate of the association.
-The refs started booing... -Boo!
JOHN: ...because they suspected the draw had been rigged.
People started yelling fraud.
-Fraud! -(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
JOHN: But unfortunately,
the allegations only seemed to arouse him.
Petty theft increased dramatically.
And when a gold-plated whistle was awarded to the guy
who had been yelling at everyone the whole night,
it seemed to be the-- the final straw.
PRIZE GIVER: Smile for camera. Smile for the camera.
Camera's over here. Smile for the camera.
-Smile for that camera. -(LAUGHS)
Smile for that camera.
JOHN: And everyone left almost instantly, as predicted.
But as people were filing out,
the guy that won the golden whistle seemed very upset.
It appeared that his golden whistle
was actually stolen straight, uh, from the display case.
It-- It was stolen. His golden whistle was stolen.
He was really hoping that it was a joke,
but after about a half an hour, it didn't seem like
it was gonna be reappearing anytime soon.
So I left the ref dinner with a heavy heart.
I guess I was wrong in assuming
that refs would be less flawed than the rest of us.
And if that's the case,
then what hope do we have to act with any civility
when we're out with our friends?
♪ (MUSIC FADES) ♪
Stealing from anybody never feels nice,
but maybe people feel like they need to steal
because they're not getting support
from the places they need it the most.
♪ (HOPEFUL MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
A lack of fairness at the top
can create chaos at the bottom
and causes some people to cheat.
But it's kind of hard to blame them
for taking advantage...
when they feel completely invisible
to everyone else.
Because at the end of the day,
we're all getting kind of a raw deal.
And if we don't figure out how to support each other,
then we're all cooked.
♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪
This is Ref Wilson. Thanks for watching.
(WHISTLE BLOWING)
♪ (WHISTLE MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪
♪ (ETHEREAL MUSIC PLAYS) ♪
JOHN WILSON: Then you take the broth
and pour it in a ladle at a time.
And while you're waiting for that,
you try to say hello to your landlord
who's gardening outside.
'Ello, Mama!
This should take around 15 minutes.
♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪