The factory I visited yesterday, while operating in China, was run by Korean owners and managers. So for lunch, they sent us to a nearby Korean barbecue restaurant.
Our server was a very stern-looking, tiny-framed Chinese woman who efficiently took our order, fired up the grill and began cooking our meats. She wore the restaurant's blue flight attendant-esque uniform and answered any questions we had with single-word responses. Her shiny gold nametag read, "HARRY."
I wondered if her name truly was Harry or if she borrowed a colleague's nametag. I didn't dare ask, lest I get stabbed in the eye by her metal meat pincers.