While I stand half naked in front of a mirror, Hogg repeatedly asks me to perform a simple muscle-resistance test—the details of which he says are proprietary and asks me not to reveal—whereby he places, one by one, the individual contents of my saddlebag at my feet. I "pass" the resistance test when he puts the empty saddlebag and then one of the tubes near me. After I fail the test when he places the second tube before me, Hogg picks it up with one hand and sweeps the magnet over it with the other. Hogg tells me he's changing the tube's polarity, then puts it at my feet again and digs his fingers into my sides. His hands come to rest on the top of my hipbones. They still aren't level.

We go through a similar process with my tire levers, and when my hips remain cockeyed, Hogg walks the levers across the shop and comes back carrying ones that he sells. He places them at my feet. His levers aren't notable, but Hogg insists that some things are to cyclists what kryptonite is to Superman, and even a change of polarity won't help. He suggests exorcising such offending objects.

He then administers the simple muscle-resistance test again. I pass it.