I know that there are other foodservice professionals on this board, so I hope they’ll chime in.
Over the course of my 32 years in the foodservice industry, I’ve developed a way of walking that means I do not slip and fall when I encounter a slippery surface. I can’t explain it, it’s just the way I walk. I’m accustomed to spending 8 hours a day on potentially slippery floors.
This ended up being driven home to me tonight. I left my apartment, got in my car, and drove to the nearest convenience store to make a purchase (beer!). I made my purchase and returned to my car … only to discover that there was a patch of ice in front on my car door.
I wasn’t in the store for five minutes, so that patch of ice had to have been there when I got out of my car. Yet I stepped right on it, and didn’t slip and fall. I was wearing my “street shoes”, not my work “slip-resistant” shoes. But I didn’t slip, and I credit that to the fact that my feet automatically adjust to “slipperiness”.
Do other long-term “foodservice professionals” have similar results?
It’s flat footed. You put your entire foot down at once. If you walk ‘normal’ your heel goes down first and when that happens, you’re body is leaning forward…if there’s water on the floor, you’re foot is going to slide forward and out from under you. Hand a ‘normal person’ a 10 gallon pot of boiling water and tell them to walk it over to the sink and they’ll do it do when they realize what’ll happen if they fall with it…even in their own kitchen which they know isn’t slippery. A combination of a heavy pot, being extra careful and it’s hot so they can’t let it bump into their chest.
When I’m walking in a parking lot where there’s the potential to be ice, I have a habit of ‘twisting’ each foot a bit as I set it down to make sure it’s not icy. At least once every few steps.
Now, should we talk about employees who, after several years still can’t smell the gas when the pilot goes out or still say ‘derrr what’s the smell?’ when there’s a noodle on the stove.
I grew up in Saskatchewan (right across from North Dakota, if anybody needs a hint), so I’m used to walking on ice. The common gait, sometimes called “the Regina shuffle”, is slower than the kitchen step mentioned above, but just as automatic. It comes in handy when I’m passing through the kitchen at work.
After thirty years in service besides the no slip step, I notice that I can get through a very big crowd very quickly. The mall at Christmas, the subway, concerts, airports, I’ll always say, " Just follow me!", which my friends have learned is the quickest way.
But I inevitably reach my destination and then look about for my friends to catch up. And when they do it’s always, “How can one small person be so hard to keep up with? Your step is half of mine!” If you spend enough time working in packed bars you get pretty good at sensing where the next gap will open!
I was just thinking about this the other day. I’m quite short but heavy, with a paranoid fear of falling on my ass in public (because it hurts to fall! mostly my pride, but body parts too). I always walk very carefully in winter, and haven’t slipped on ice in a looong time. But I see plenty of slim young things powerwalking across the sidewalks here like it’s the goddamn summer Olympics–while texting, talking on the phone, etc. The instant they encounter the slightest patch of ice (which is pretty much any/everywhere here in NY), they’re on their asses. And I plod on by safely, albeit less-sexily.
I agree with all of this except, when you put your heel down first, your body is leaning back, which is why when your heel slides forward and out from under you, you end up on your ass.
Not even that. I spent the first six years or so of my life in a properly cold country, in a house on the edge of the forest. At 40, I have moved back to a very similar part of the world with my other half who grew up in a small town in a normal european country.
In the winter I amble about normally on the ice and snow while she is teetering and sliding everywhere and getting annoyed with me for leaving her behind and/or risking a fall. In the summer we walk through the woods and I get annoyed with her because she scares all the wildlife by somehow managing to make as much noise as a small aeroplane crashing - continually.
It’s an odd phenomenon, how your whole style of motion adapts to an environment.
