I was at this party. I saw a tall, lithe girl with long straight hair that was dyed red sitting by herself on the couch. I thought to myself, holy fuck, that girl is beautiful, and immediately turned to get as far away from her as possible when all of a sudden I hear "Leo! Leo! I want you to meet a friend of mine, Monica!"
Guess who "Monica" turned out to be.......
Monica stands up.....I'm expecting her to visibly be disinterested in me, and cold and standoffish....in heels, she's a little taller than me, she's dressed super beautiful, super hot, super fashionista.......obviously I'm so not her type.....
Instead, I'm looking into the warmest, biggest brown eyes I've ever seen, all googly eyed, as I gently shake the softest hand I'd ever touched. For the rest of the night, we talked and we talked, effortlessly and flowing, and at the end of the night, I walked her home. We didn't want the night to end, so weaved around the streets of the East Village and sat down on a bench and talked the night away. It felt like the whole city was empty and was our playground. We were both 23, we were golden, and for both of us it was love at first sight.
For a whole series of odd circumstances that I won't get into right now, we couldn't get together at that moment. So we became great friends. Friends that obviously liked each other. She was....an angel. I was sick, she made me a giant vat of chicken soup and brought it to me. Sometimes I'd be at work, and lunch would be delivered to me, anonymously. It took me WEEKS to find out who was doing it. She got us tickets to see "Tommy" on Broadway, for my birthday (we both hated it, lol).
There were two things that prevented us from getting together at that moment in time. One was something she had said: she was planning on moving to Italy, to do fashion there. I thought, oh ok, well....I'm not moving to Italy! The other was more serious. She was in AA and couldn't be in a relationship for at least a year. Like I said, I was 23, so my experience with this was limited. I assumed she must have been wild in college (though I could not reconcile that at all with the girl I knew but that's what she said). I knew she had a childhood that was shocking, by anyone's standards.
Unfortunately, when you're 23, a year is a long time.....and though we stayed friends, we drifted apart a bit and I started hanging around another girl. It broke her heart. I didn't realize it was such a big deal until a mutual friend told me how hurting Monica was. I called her....and she immediately burst out crying, telling me it was ok.........I knew right away what a horrible mistake I had made, how much she meant to me, and how much I had hurt her. But it was too late, the damage had been done. I still wince, thinking about it.
**********
Now, it's a few years later. We've lost each other, haven't seen each other, haven't spoken, nothing. One night, I walk into a club with a Venezuelan girl I had recently started dating. She had a fiancee back in Venezuela, so it wasn't anything serious. The club is crowded and as I'm walking through, I come face to face with Monica. My stomach drops, I can't believe it.
We talk excitedly for five minutes and I do something really radical, and not very nice. I turn to my Venezuelan date and say, "We have to leave here, I'm putting you on a train." I take her by the arm and we're briskly walking to the subway, and she keeps asking me "What's wrong, Leo, what's wrong?" I'm just looking straight ahead, not saying a word.......all I can think of is Monica is back in that club, and I'm not going to let her slip through my fingers again.
When I get back to the club, it takes me forever to find her....but once I did, i said let's get out of here. Ok, she says, and we leave and we walk around and we catch up.........I grab her hand, something I'd never done before.......we go down into the subway.........I get her against one of the beams and we start making out. After all this time, all these years.....at last.
There's only one thing I haven't done yet. Do you know what that is?
I have to know. I had just put a super ticklish Venuzuelan girl on a train destined for "out of my life", I had to know if Monica was............you know......
We're kissing and I'm kissing her passionately and I have my hands all over her, I'm totally pawing her. it's not really the time, but I had to try so......all of a sudden I take both hands, put them through her jacket and on to her waist, sink my fingers in a bit and start definitely, unabiguously tickling, spider tickling her midsection through satiny top ........ she bursts out giggling, her eyes still closed from the kissing......just wrinkles her nose and giggles.......she's ticklish! Yes! She's ticklish! She's VERY ticklish.
That's it. This is "the one". From that moment on , till this very day, she's "the one".
She would end up putting me through both heaven and hell. The hell part was REAL hell. Life and death hell. Heartbreak hell. We have never been able to make the break, we're too close, and we've come through too much. And because she was such an amazing ticklee......and one whom had lots of tickle experiences outside our relationship, before, during and after......she has been my life's muse. The Tickle Muse. The Great Tickle Muse.
To be continued.....
Guess who "Monica" turned out to be.......
Monica stands up.....I'm expecting her to visibly be disinterested in me, and cold and standoffish....in heels, she's a little taller than me, she's dressed super beautiful, super hot, super fashionista.......obviously I'm so not her type.....
Instead, I'm looking into the warmest, biggest brown eyes I've ever seen, all googly eyed, as I gently shake the softest hand I'd ever touched. For the rest of the night, we talked and we talked, effortlessly and flowing, and at the end of the night, I walked her home. We didn't want the night to end, so weaved around the streets of the East Village and sat down on a bench and talked the night away. It felt like the whole city was empty and was our playground. We were both 23, we were golden, and for both of us it was love at first sight.
For a whole series of odd circumstances that I won't get into right now, we couldn't get together at that moment. So we became great friends. Friends that obviously liked each other. She was....an angel. I was sick, she made me a giant vat of chicken soup and brought it to me. Sometimes I'd be at work, and lunch would be delivered to me, anonymously. It took me WEEKS to find out who was doing it. She got us tickets to see "Tommy" on Broadway, for my birthday (we both hated it, lol).
There were two things that prevented us from getting together at that moment in time. One was something she had said: she was planning on moving to Italy, to do fashion there. I thought, oh ok, well....I'm not moving to Italy! The other was more serious. She was in AA and couldn't be in a relationship for at least a year. Like I said, I was 23, so my experience with this was limited. I assumed she must have been wild in college (though I could not reconcile that at all with the girl I knew but that's what she said). I knew she had a childhood that was shocking, by anyone's standards.
Unfortunately, when you're 23, a year is a long time.....and though we stayed friends, we drifted apart a bit and I started hanging around another girl. It broke her heart. I didn't realize it was such a big deal until a mutual friend told me how hurting Monica was. I called her....and she immediately burst out crying, telling me it was ok.........I knew right away what a horrible mistake I had made, how much she meant to me, and how much I had hurt her. But it was too late, the damage had been done. I still wince, thinking about it.
**********
Now, it's a few years later. We've lost each other, haven't seen each other, haven't spoken, nothing. One night, I walk into a club with a Venezuelan girl I had recently started dating. She had a fiancee back in Venezuela, so it wasn't anything serious. The club is crowded and as I'm walking through, I come face to face with Monica. My stomach drops, I can't believe it.
We talk excitedly for five minutes and I do something really radical, and not very nice. I turn to my Venezuelan date and say, "We have to leave here, I'm putting you on a train." I take her by the arm and we're briskly walking to the subway, and she keeps asking me "What's wrong, Leo, what's wrong?" I'm just looking straight ahead, not saying a word.......all I can think of is Monica is back in that club, and I'm not going to let her slip through my fingers again.
When I get back to the club, it takes me forever to find her....but once I did, i said let's get out of here. Ok, she says, and we leave and we walk around and we catch up.........I grab her hand, something I'd never done before.......we go down into the subway.........I get her against one of the beams and we start making out. After all this time, all these years.....at last.
There's only one thing I haven't done yet. Do you know what that is?
I have to know. I had just put a super ticklish Venuzuelan girl on a train destined for "out of my life", I had to know if Monica was............you know......
We're kissing and I'm kissing her passionately and I have my hands all over her, I'm totally pawing her. it's not really the time, but I had to try so......all of a sudden I take both hands, put them through her jacket and on to her waist, sink my fingers in a bit and start definitely, unabiguously tickling, spider tickling her midsection through satiny top ........ she bursts out giggling, her eyes still closed from the kissing......just wrinkles her nose and giggles.......she's ticklish! Yes! She's ticklish! She's VERY ticklish.
That's it. This is "the one". From that moment on , till this very day, she's "the one".
She would end up putting me through both heaven and hell. The hell part was REAL hell. Life and death hell. Heartbreak hell. We have never been able to make the break, we're too close, and we've come through too much. And because she was such an amazing ticklee......and one whom had lots of tickle experiences outside our relationship, before, during and after......she has been my life's muse. The Tickle Muse. The Great Tickle Muse.
To be continued.....
