I've told this one before but since you asked. . .
JD58, while I did not laugh out loud a friend of mine once got me good in public. It was in the early 1980s when I was in college. I knew this girl named Susie. She was a bit plain but could be very charming, with alluring brown eyes and a pear-shaped, slim figure. Susie was maybe 5'2" with short blonde hair. On some level, Susie and I liked each other even though we never dated.
Susie was fun-loving, with a crazy sense of humor. And, as I learned one day, she had a passion for tickling that rivaled mine.
I worked in a supermarket, stocking shelves. One night I was working the aisles when Susie and her roommate Jean were shopping. I was unpacking boxes of pickles, which came in glass jars. As luck (for Susie) would have it, these pickles went on the top shelf.
Just as Susie and Jean entered the aisle I was working, I decided to place the box of pickles on the top shelf before unpacking it. It was a heavy box with, all those glass/water contents. As I started lifting it, the girls caught my eye and I said hello. Susie looked me over, watching me lift the box towards the top shelf.
Suddenly, Susie started running towards me with a look on her face of the

cat who is getting the canary. Not knowing she was a tickler, I didn't realize what she was about to do to me. Just as I had my arms up but did not yet have the box of pickles on the top shelf, Susie dug her ten tickling fingers into my sides! She ran her hands up and down, ribs to under-arms, not caring whether or not I dropped the box!
I hadn't been tickled like that since I was a kid, when adults and bigger kids had the size advantage over me. While Susie was much smaller than me (I'm 5'8" and, back then, weighed 200 lbs.), holding that box of pickles packed in water & glass and not wanting to drop it was like having my arms tied over my head. My struggle to hold on to that heavy box gave Susie all the advantage! Susie was not going to stop tickling me until she had to, even if it meant a box of pickles crashing to the floor.
In a split second, I made the decision to try to endure Susie's tickling and tried to finish placing the box on the top shelf. But as I felt my arms naturally trying to draw to my sides in reaction to Susie's tickles, I then just wanted to hang on to the box! While Susie tickled away, I went to plan B, lowering the pickles to the floor before her tickles could make me drop it.
The entire tickle lasted maybe four or five seconds, but when someone's really getting you good - and by surprise - it seems like an hour. And Susie was really tickling me well - she must have honed her tickling skills on younger sisters and brothers.
(Some time later, Susie dated a friend of mine whom she constantly tickled. Realizing what a tickler Susie was, I wished I had tried to get her when she was available. However, I never knew if Susie was ticklish.)
As it was so long ago, I don't remember what I said or did once Susie stopped. But I do remember the sensation of being tickled, the excitement of having a kind-of-cute girl doing it to me, and the embarrassment of being tickled in public, with Susie's friend Jean watching and laughing at me, not to mention any customers or coworkers who might have seen the action. In today's age of supermarket surveillance, that would have been quite a show for anyone watching the store TV monitors. I would have asked for a copy of the tape.