Remember the ads for the film The 40 Year Old Virgin where they show the poor fella getting his chest hair waxed?
Well, when I went for an exercise stress test, they make you put on comfortable clothes so I had the standard t-shirt and shorts on. The tech lady says 'you'll have to take off the t-shirt so I can put these sensors on'.
I lift my arms and begin removing my t-shirt. You know how there's that second or two where your face would be covered by the shirt as you lift it over your head? Well, my new friend takes this opportunity to assault my chest with a disposable razor - no warning, no accompanying cream or powder, just a heartless slash down one side of my chest.
This surprised me to no end and I let out a strangled cry that I now imagine to have sounded like 'haowrpmph'. She says 'oh sorry, I have to shave you so the electrodes will stick' and slashes down the other side.
So now I have two unique patches of 'no hair' on my 'pecs'. They're more vertical than horizontal as worn by Steve Carell in the movie but they're my battle scars and I'll wear them just as not so proudly.
Thanks crazy lady shaver.
Post Script containing irrefutable facts:
My heart does indeed beat.
I do sweat when forced to run in place at high speeds.
I didn't drop dead.