My name is Mycroft Billings and I am a professional tickler. I dropped out of college--anthropology wasn't for me. I wandered around for months seeking something to define who I was.
For awhile, about ten years ago, I was a free lance cuddler when cuddle parties were big. I discovered I could creatively cuddle for hours, serial cuddle without batting an eye. But then, around 2009 the cuddling industry collapsed and cuddle parties disappeared.
One day I was invited to a secret party downtown. It turned out to be a tickle party. We spent the evening enjoying light refreshments, drinking wine and blatantly tickling each other. Needless to say, much wine was spilled in the process. From people's compliments afterwards, I gathered I was more skilled than most, so I became a free lance tickler. I instinctively knew where to attack, how long to remain before moving on to another body part, and most important, how to avoid being tickled myself. I was in complete control.
But there was no security or good health coverage in this career, so around 2012 I became an insurance salesman. Boring.
I craved the old excitement and when former clients contacted me pleading for a session, I was weak and agreed. But the cobwebs were there. I soon found my timing and touch were off. I was grabbing the wrong body parts. My fingers had gotten lazy and stiff. No dexterity in a tickler is a career killer.
I was met with disdain and got no call backs. They had found younger, Euro-trash ticklers fresh off the boat. I was a has-been.
For too long I drifted from city to city with no purpose, no home, no family or friends.
One day a man started choking at an outdoor cafe. I rushed over and gave him the Heimlich Maneuver and out popped a cherry pit. It wound up on You Tube.
I was onto something. The only way to master this skill was to walk up behind strangers and employ the Heimlich, which is what I've been doing. I just may save someone's life, and in the process, give meaning to my own.
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