““Sorry. It’s a technique I use to fend off the panic — screaming at the top of my lungs.” “That’s the best technique you have?” “I have a few different techniques. I can also massage my balls." “Excuse me?” “I have balls. Massaging them really helps.” “Your… balls? You looked like a woman to me, pretty damn shapely from the back, at least.” “They’re Boading balls. Metal meditation balls. I massage them against each other in a circular motion in my palm. It helps calm me down.” I began to frantically search through my purse. “What’s all that rustling?” he asked. “I’m trying to find them. They’re somewhere in my bag.” Without light, I wasn’t able to easily locate them. “Shit, where are they?” He chuckled. “I have some balls you could massage if you’re in a pickle.””
