Squosh, splosh, spwish, throth. These sounds are part of my winter morning walks on the slick clean tiles of a local mall. On my arc through the food court, I watch the women at Hot Dog on a Stick churning lemons for the drinks. Young women. Young white women. Young white women who are slim. Young white women who are slim in tight-fitting striped shirts, shorts, and a ridiculous upside-down bucket-looking contraption some could call a hat.
The Orange Julius across the food court has men and women. Young and older men and women. Young and older men and women of color. Young and older men and women of color in dark, loose-fitting, wash-and-wear shirts and long pants. Not tight-fitting or attention-getting uniforms, just ones that look durable and something a food professional would find comfortable to you know work in. The same for other food franchises around the food court: Edo, the Great Steak and Potato Company, Sbarro, Rocky Mountain Chocolate, Subway, and Panda Express. Some of these other food workers wear knit hats, some ball caps, some just have their hair pulled back in ponytails.
So what’s with the get-ups the bucketheaded women have to wear at Hot Dog on a Stick?
SD Headliner, “The official fake newspaper of Sand Diego,” ran the recent headline “Hot Dog on a Stick Employee Wins Gold at Third Annual Degrading Uniform Pageant.” The accompanying fake photo shows a young woman in an HDOAS uniform standing on an Olympics-type medal platform in first place, next to the second-place Hooters girl, and the third-place man in a San Diego Padres uniform. The fake quote from the winner in the HDOAS uniform is, “I mean my uniform is pretty degrading . . . but I’d rather have middle-aged men gawk at me while I pump lemonade in this ridiculous outfit than have to wear a Padres uniform.”
And though all these other mall food businesses sell drinks, they don’t put employees out front pumping the ingredients. Orange Julius figured out that machines can do this.
One Saturday I walked the mall in the afternoon, and many families were purchasing lunch. The Hot Dog on a Stick girls were dunking hot dogs on sticks into vats and holding them above the vat, dripping with light yellow batter. A bit suggestive? Part of a food porno business model? A model that doesn’t include men . . . or heavy women of color?
Or am I just another frumpy middle-aged woman with no sense of play? Can I not just see Hot Dog on a Stick as a fun, old-timey, summery beach-and-circus themed food business?
Maybe. But every time I swing briskly through the food court, there is a young woman in a tight, degrading outfit, an outfit different from other food professionals in the food court. She’s violently smashing lemons and suggestively dipping frankfurters. Time to skewer this ridiculous vision.
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