Anne Hull has a great article about South Asian immigrants. They're mystified by the laziness of American minorities. The Asians

work as if each sale brings a handsome commission instead of low wages, zeal that boggles the minds of the American employees, most of whom are the sons and daughters of the native-born working class....[The owner] Rizwan Momin arrived in Atlanta in 1985 from the Indian state of Gujarat. He had $310 in his pocket. His uncle had just purchased a sagging, white-owned Dairy Queen in a black neighborhood in Atlanta. Riz went to work for his uncle, mopping, sweeping, saving, scheming, wearing $3 shirts from K-Mart, sleeping on the floor, working day and night at the DQ except when he went to his second job at a laminations factory on Buford Highway, where he tended the boiler.
Seventeen years later, Riz owns nine Dairy Queens in the Atlanta metro area. He's one of the largest franchisees in the Southeast. Drives the Porsche on some days, the Infiniti SUV on others, Indian music blasting from the Bose speakers in the wood-grain console.
Indians now own 60 of the 208 Dairy Queens in Georgia. Half of Riz's workforce is Indian. "Forget the white kids with the studs in the tongue," Riz says. "Indians are gonna work for you. At the beginning, they work for minimum wage. Then little raise, little raise, slowly, slowly. Everyone live together; they are saving money, six people in household working, they bank 80 percent of their money and use 20 percent for expenses. They don't drink, no clubs, no fancy clothes. Suddenly, they have $60,000 in the bank. Then they will buy the Subway or the Blimpie."
But Riz worries about the second generation. No vision. Where's the next young entrepreneur ready to climb out of the low-wage landscape? "These people just want to be the Riz," says Riz with concern. "You can't copy the Riz. You must build your own entity. The second generation wants the shortcut."
The source of his worry is his cousin, Ali Momin, 22, who is the night supervisor at the Stockbridge store. Ali could be the heir apparent if he wanted.
One Thursday afternoon, Ali is changing the grease in the deep-fryer. With his sleeves rolled up, he drains the old grease, scrubs out the stainless steel vats, rinses everything down with a hose and then pours in fresh oil. Periodically, he looks out toward the parking lot, where his 2001 silver Honda Accord is backed in so he can keep an eye on it. The CD player is loaded with Eminem and Indian techno music.
Ali came to Stockbridge from India when he was 16. He dropped out of Eagle's Landing High School his senior year. He wanted to hurry up and get started in the DQ pipeline.
But unlike Riz when Riz started out, Ali won't wear $3 shirts from K-Mart. His cologne is Dreamer by Versace. His savings account is zero. "Riz tells me a whole buncha times, 'Don't be wasting money,' " Ali says. "I keep that in my head for a couple of days, then it goes away."

The native-born Americans suffer by comparison

...Cisco ("half Latino and half black") sees the owner arriving in his Infiniti. A subdued car like that just makes him shake his head in pity. "He let all that money go to waste," Cisco says...
....One afternoon, Riz the owner makes a surprise visit to the DQ. Riz starts yelling about the mess and everyone begins mopping and wiping furiously. After Riz leaves, Cisco and Xavier relax back into their usual selves. "We don't change for nobody," Xavier says.
Cisco nods. "Yeah, keep it real."

And the descriptions of the customers, of all different races, make for a real laugh riot. Funny compared to the Chinese, the Indians don't start Indian restaurants. I guess there's not much of a market for that.