Friday the 13th

Last Friday the 13th I got a DUI (more on which in a later post). THIS Friday the 13th, I was barrelling down the Interstate at 75mph on my way to an infomercial audition, when one of my tires blew out! (Next Friday the 13th, don’t let me anywhere near my truck!)

I was able to pull over safely to the left shoulder and call AAA. It was a really hot and humid day, so I didn’t want to sit in the truck and wait. Instead, I got out and leaned on the dividing wall, basking in the noise and pollution of a thousand Porsches racing toward Henderson. Douchebags!

Because I had on my trusty pink hot pants, help arrived in no time. A kid in a mohawk pulled over first, and then the AAA tow truck arrived. As the AAA guy was changing my tire for me, the Nevada Freeway Service Patrol pulled up. This is a FREE service they offer to any stranded motorist — really cool! They cruise up and down the freeways of Vegas and Reno all day long, looking for stranded drivers to help. Good to know our tax dollars are being put to good use, at least in one arena!

Once my spare tire was on, I started the looooong drive back across town to my neighborhood Big O, to get a new tire. Because I was traveling on the spare “donut,” I could only go about 45 mph max…so I had to take surface streets. And because it was Friday afternoon in Vegas, the traffic was miserable. Thank goodness, some wacko called me on the way and diverted my attention.

I had answered an ad on Craigslist that morning looking for women who “like to laugh.” Well, I *LOVE* to laugh (who doesn’t?), so I submitted my info. Apparently, the International School of Laughter was having some sort of event in Vegas that they needed laughing women for, and it paid $100. Just my kind of odd gig!

So now my cell rings and it’s this weird, creepy-sounding man. “Helloooo, this is ____. You answered our ad on craigslist about laughing?” After exchanging pleasantries, this man went on to ask if I liked to laugh. “Yes, of course!” Then he wanted to know if I was ticklish. “Yes… of course!” Next he asked if my FEET were ticklish. “Uhhh….yes… of course!”

By this time I had him figured for a foot pervert, and I think I was correct in that he spent the next THIRTY MINUTES asking me how I would feel in various scenarios: “What if you were wearing nylon stockings? Would your feet be more ticklish?” “What if you were wearing socks?” “What if your feet were bare?”

To be honest, I’ve done a few tickle fetish videos, and my feet really AREN’T that ticklish (my ribs are another story). But I told this weird man that yes, they were ticklish as hell! Anything for a buck!!

“Goooood! You’ll be perfect!” This man had an unsettling habit of giggling at the end of every sentence. I pictured him short and fat and bald and creepy…that’s how he sounded. “Now let me ask you what you would do if you entered a room, and there was a partition in the middle with holes in it. And various people had their feet poking through the holes. Would you enjoy tickling them?”

Now I figured he was hiring for some kind of perverted tickle party. Sounded OK to me! “Yeah, sure. I’d tickle them for at LEAST 20 minutes!”

“Gooooood! Tee hee hee! And what if some of the feet had on nylons… and some were bare. Which would you tickle first? And what if you had a feather duster? And what if they wanted to tickle YOU? Tee hee hee!”

This guy went on and on and on, and I figured he must be jerking off or something. But I was raised to be polite, so I let him ramble on. But even my considerably extensive patience wore thin after 30 minutes. And besides, I had finally arrived at my destination. I need to get my tire changed!

“Listen, let’s cut to the chase. Are you having a tickle party, and if so, am I hired or what?”

He gave me some bullshit story about the International School of Laughter coming to town and that he’d be in touch with me early next week. He never really answered my question…just said he’d call me back next week. Yeah, I bet!! So he can jerk off some more!

When I got home, I Googled the “International School of Laughter…” and come to find out, there really IS one! And they DO have these weird tickle parties.
And here I thought I was just being jerked around by some pervert. Although I did go to their official site, and there was no mention of a Vegas laugh-in.

So maybe I WAS just being jerked around. We’ll see! Hopefully he calls me back, and it turns out to be true…because that would just be awesome.

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Oh feet and ribs are so passé for great tickle points; I found the best spot to send my little sisters and godson into convulsions was to press in on both sides of the lower thigh right behind the kneecap. However if you want to turn tickling into a kind of Al-Quaeda prisoner torture, hold the person down and slowly rotate a blade of grass inside the nostril. The big kids in my neighborhood growing up did this to me and probably was one of the reasons it took me so long to try blow.

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