Zen and the art of believing scales

I love my friend Sue,
she is funny, warm and crazy just as much as I am. We have been friends from day one, both just arrived in Sing and stuck at the lovely but slightly jail like Tree Tops apartments for about 3 months.
Having both been through thick and thin during this particularly difficult year I am always happy when we can meet for a light lunch and a heavier talk so when she called me last week to go to Weelock place and the recently refurbished Sun and Moon Japanese restaurant I could not say no.
After our customary slamming of Singapore (you need to vent out your frustrations once in a while) we started talking about health and fitness since I had been nursing and still am, 2 weeks later, a rather nasty cough and annoying cold.
The subject of weight and finding the strength to subject oneself to incredibly boring gym practices all in the name of slim thighs and flat tummies soon followed and this was when she introduced the subject of scales that can measure not only your weight but your water content, your fat mass, in short your fitness and health and therefore your resulting "age".
I was a bit miffed by this contraption but she went on and on about it and how the shocking news revealed by the scale had been sufficient to shove her sorry bum back to the gym. Worried I asked what had happened and slightly abashed she told me that based on all the pointers above, her "age" had resulted as being 53 when she is well below 40. In panic she went back to running, lifting weights, sweating like crazy and little by little her "age" has been reducing reaching a comfortable 43.
Then she said "why not go to Takashimaya and try one out for yourself?". Taki (as I call it for short) is a very nice department store with everything from clothes to kitchenware to groceries so we meandered through the different areas until we found the scale. It took some time to set up as it wanted to know my age, my height and other bits and pieces. During all this time Sue kept insisting that I should not worry about the initial "age", that it was going to help me move in the right direction, that it would be a push to do more and feel good about myself. By this time I feel a bit panicky and start regretting saying yes to this experiment. I take my shoes off to allow for the scale to bombard my feet with some kind of radiation (hmmm!) that will read my fat mass and water mass and wait anxiously for the result. The display starts to blink, it reads my actual weight, my water percentage, my fat levels and the numbers do not really mean anything to me , all I am waiting for is the only number that counts. Sue is by my side ready to console me when the horrible truth is revealed and all of a sudden.....age 27. Well, what a relief, I am so far away from "age 27" by now that I do not even remember what being under 40 is all about let alone under 30. I am beaming and grinning side to side but I feel a disturbance in the force...Sue's eyes have reduced to little slits and I can feel rather than hear the swearing and evil words cutting like blades through my fit self, with a couple also being addressed towards the useless scale and the world as a whole. I smile, hug her and take her hand saying it is not that bad, that this technology is for the birds and should not be taken too seriously, all marketing fluff after all as usual....but inside I feel a little nugget of warm and happy feelings spreading across my 27 year old body.