I stood a while, because I had selected an empty table around the corner and far away. I figured I’d get Kyle’s attention when he came around the corner so that he knew where I was sitting. But he didn’t appear, and he didn’t appear, so eventually I sat down. Moments later, he walked up to the table.
He set down his tray and sat down across from me.
“Something troubling happened back there,” he said.
I looked up.
“I ordered two-thirds of a pound of brisket, and when they weighed it, the scale said 0.48 lbs. Neither person at the register knew whether or not it was two-thirds of a pound. They asked me for help, because they didn’t know that two-thirds is 0.66.”
I shook my head.
“It’s no surprise,” I muttered, “that companies what to hire folks on H-1B visas.”