It started off as a small rough red spot on his arm. It didn't itch, it didn't hurt, it didn't do anything, but it didn't ever heal either. Several times he'd tried ointments and once, in a fit of metrosexuality, loofahed the spot, thinking it might be some displaced dandruff. It wouldn't budge.
Until one day when, during a routine physical for his job, he showed it to his doctor. She peered at his tan, muscled bicep, trying to discern what this spot could mean, wondering if it might be ringworm or maybe a melanoma. Scraping off a few dry flakes into a petri dish with the dull edge of her scalpel, she suddenly thought of something. She kept her emotions under control, though, as she said to him...
Until one day when, during a routine physical for his job, he showed it to his doctor. She peered at his tan, muscled bicep, trying to discern what this spot could mean, wondering if it might be ringworm or maybe a melanoma. Scraping off a few dry flakes into a petri dish with the dull edge of her scalpel, she suddenly thought of something. She kept her emotions under control, though, as she said to him...
