Tales From The Grind #1: ‘Tickle Me Pink’
[inline:cak]Editor’s Note: This is the latest installment of a new column by Nina Kaplan. A rising star on the social scene, Nina interns at a celebrity/fashion magazine and moonlights as a str*pper at Bump ‘n Grind. A web series produced by Direct Arts about Nina and her best friend, artist and fellow str*pper Lucy Palermo, is premiering this Spring 2010. Go to WelcomeToTheGrind.com for more information.
Dead night over at the Grind, more girls than guys. Lucy fell into the black hole known as Lucy Time and unfortunately, we had some vague plan to go see a movie, so I spent an hour staring at myself in grimy mirrors practicing some new pole moves. Bored, boring, bored. Two guys with limp one-dollar bills.
Then Jimmy came over and said, “Yo, Spice, y’wanna make some money?”
Turns out there’s this guy there — totally innocuous — grayish hair, sort of stocky, cherubic face. The sort of guy that blends in with a bar. Well, he owns a tickle fetish website. I kid you not. There are people who are turned on by girls getting TICKLED. And he was offering $200 to videotape a girl getting tickled by another girl. Since Jimmy vetted for him, I thought, why not? I am a delicate flower and every part of me is sensitive. So I got my things and went with Cici off to some unknown corner of the Tickle Fetish Universe. Which turned out to be Bay Ridge.
The guy (his name is Timmy) pulled into one of those cookie-cutter brick buildings after an interminable drive where we listened to Journey and a long Cici monologue about what color she should dye her hair. He took us past a few overfed sofas and up a winding staircase to a little area where there was a scary-looking chair with straps and something that looked like a more comfortable version of what you sit on when you visit your gynecologist. Cici and I exchanged glances and he reassured us that it wasn’t as bad as it looked. He turned on two photo lights and said we should see which one of us is more ticklish. So Cici sat in the Scary Chair, took off her shoes and I tickled her feet. A few giggles. My turn. I took off my shoes, sat on the chair, and relinquished my feet to Cici. One gentle brush was all it took for me to whoop and nearly kicked Cici’s teeth out. Well, that settled that.
Tickle Tim got out his video camera and instructed us to talk a little so I wouldn’t have to be tickled for the entire seven minutes he needed of video. He also told Cici to give me a break occasionally — tickle hard, then soft. Cici, though, isn’t great at instructions. Her brain is like freaking cotton candy.
After a quick preliminary, “What’s your name, hon? Are you ticklish?” she launched into a tickle attack that had me nearly peeing in my pants. “STOP! STOP!” I laughed, “SAFETY WORD! SAFETY WORD!” But she was way into it. Tim felt sorry for me and turned off the camera after two minutes. I had a headache and my sides ached from laughing. Tim demonstrated to Cici some milder tickle techniques and somehow, I managed to endure another five minutes of being tickled by Cici the Tickle Fiend. But THEN, they strapped me onto that Gyno Gurney and I had to endure another three minutes of being tickled on my armpits and sides, which are even MORE ticklish than my feet. Hope some sick tickle f*ck LOVES it.
We got back to the Grind two hours after we left. Lucy was on stage looking like she was filing her nails while drawing figure eights with her butt. “Oh my god,” Cici chirped, “That was so much fun!” I glared at her and thought of dire ways to avenge my aching abs. “