"I didn't know you had that option." It doesn't much surprise Julie to hear that someone was flirting with Abby. More that she wonders if it's one of the usual suspects, or someone a bit more interesting. "Gettin' railed helps, but don't expect it to be like, a miracle cure. You still gotta work on your own shit, unfortunately.

Taking a sip of coffee, Julie shrugs. "I mean, who knows brain shit better than a neurosurgeon?" she asks. Not that she thinks it's the same as a therapist or psychologist, but for the way that soundwaves can interact with the brain? That seems like something that might crop up in medical school. "And sure, maybe the whole schtick is a little Steven Seagal-y, but he is the Sorcerer Supreme of his world. Or maybe of his whole universe? I'm not exactly clear on how it works. But he knows his shit."