This is some good old-fashioned animal hating! Manny's really gets 'em coming and going!
Pigwaiter's mortification begins with submitting to waiting on us. He affects an air of snobbery—that snout in the air!—but he is ever our domestic flunky. He still uses the service entrance and responds with haste to every snapping customer. "Boy? Oh, boy! More chablis!"
Of course, Pigwaiter's debasement doesn't end there. If only!
No, he serves the ribs of his kin. The ribs are fresh from the ovens and he carries the platter aloft to the tables and the salivating diners like the ring-bearer holding high his blessed pillow.
File this under "Adding Insult to Injury." Bad enough that they force Pigwaiter to serve his eventual consumers, but to compel him to bring them pig ribs!
Then again, could so proud a beast as Pigwaiter allow himself to be exploited that way? Perish the thought! He is here of his own volition. For reasons no sane observer can fathom, he loves putting on the ol' cummerbund, punching in, and dishing up Grandma.
Pigwaiter, you're one for the books.