You carry your skis bundled up with one hand parallel to your upright body, upper and lower arm at right angles to each other. Everyone watching you thinks you won't be able to do this for long, but they're wrong. As you walk what feels like five kilometres from the overcrowded car park at number 13 to the valley station, you grit your teeth and ignore the pain in your arm. By the time you're sitting in the lift and unfortunately can't get your arm back into a normal position, everyone knows that you have it: "biceps of steel".
You notice in the middle of the motorway that the boot door is open, the safety waistcoat and the box of empties have already disappeared and you just keep driving? You order a meat and cheese sandwich with mustard, ketchup, mayonnaise and pickled gherkins because making decisions is just terribly tedious? Do you just pull your skis off the roof of your car and drag them across the floor right into the gondola? According to our findings, you carry your skis in the "Wuascht way", which is defined by a worrying apathy towards people and objects. During a break in a mountain hut, you've also squeezed a hot tea bag with your hand and watched an interview conducted by Rainer Pariasek during a televised ski race without blinking. Why don't you talk to your therapist about it?
You try to shoulder the skis like an old pro. However, while you're chatting animatedly with your partner on the way to the lift, you forget about your pair of skis, which are sticking out further and further to the side and up into the air. From the hotel to the lift, you damage three street lamps, six mirrors in front of exits and nine road signs. One passer-by loses his eyesight. You may not be wilfully malicious, but you are potentially very dangerous. Why don't you wrap your boards in bubble wrap or simply have them carried to you?
Your skin is leather-tanned, your ski suit red, worthy of your long-serving ski instructor status. Because of your super-hard ski boots, which have to be surgically removed after the season like every year, you walk a little leant back with your skis perfectly shouldered. People look at you in admiration and wonder how you can wear your razor-sharp skis so close to your face without skinning and/or shaving yourself. Congratulations, you've done it!
Someone has got it into your head to wear your skis individually rather than as a pair. So you walk with one ski over your left shoulder and one over your right and look like a walking X from above. Helicopter-like swinging movements mean you need about twice as much space as everyone else. If you have to run towards the ski bus in the "helicopter position", the uncontrolled ski swinging means you immediately transition seamlessly into the "samurai position". To everyone out there who encounters someone like this on a skiing holiday - run as fast as you can!
You are also one of the splitters who transport their skis individually. Instead of crossing them, you hold them parallel to the ground and balance them as straight as possible. "The tram" is actually very practical, but looks silly. As a fan of this carrying method, you also have chronic problems with your ski poles, which you could either attach to your rucksack or clamp between your teeth.
If you like to carry your skis horizontally in front of your body, you obviously attach great importance to your personal space and that's a good thing. By using the beam method, however, you are revealing (as with all splitting techniques) that you have absolutely no idea what you are doing.