I worked this past weekend at a new restaurant that the owner of the other restaurant I work at has just opened up. It’s an adorable little place, literally the only thing other than the town hall in town, and the clientele so far has been, unsurprisingly in the sticks of western Massachusetts, a lot of hippies. One of them came up to me during my shift on Saturday and said “Excuse me waitron, could we add something to our order?” To which I naturally replied, laughing, “Waitron? Heh, I’m a robot!” and went off to get the thing she needed.
I looked it up when I got home and discovered that “waitron” is a term coined in the eighties to refer to a non-gender-specific waiter or waitress, and is often, but not always, considered derogatory. Now, I take no offense from that lady calling me waitron. In fact, I found it quite amusing. But seriously, who thought that was a good idea? Wasn’t Voltron from the eighties? Didn’t the term-coiners think that maybe that would be the association? And furthermore, am I supposed to be hiding the fact that I am a female wait-person? Cause, I’ve never really been ashamed of that.
Waitron. Good gravy.