I was pretty depressed in 2015, to such a point I'd nearly put a gun to my head. For personal reasons I won't go into, obviously. But I tell you this so you'd understand why I needed to do something different with my life; I was tired of being in retail and feeling like a loser at life. So, I signed up for joining on a with tall ship/schooner called the Bark Europa, which was going to sail from Portugal, all the way across the Atlantic, to Brazil. It was a three month long trip, overall..
Of which, I'll spare you the details of. I'd be more than happy to talk about it in pm's or something, but that's not the story. The ship was huge, and even had its own bar, as absurd as that sounded (the whole Three Sheets to the Wind thing happened to me at least once, and more than once I'd climbed up one of the masts to do some work more than a little buzzed...)
As you can imagine, on a ship like that, a lot of people wore sandals or walked around barefoot. Me personally, i'd prefer to have shoes on, water shoes at the very least. But the ship's Chilean bartender, who'll i'll just call Lana, was always barefoot. I think I did a double take once when she wore shoes! But she had very lovely-shaped arches, and she was quite lovely. Short dark hair, dark eyes, pleasant smile, always upbeat and friendly. She spoke Spanish and English fluently, and I only speak English fluently when i'm writing or sober.
For some reason when we were a week out from Brazil, I was off duty and drinking, and found a place to sit next to her on the main deck just outside of the fo'csle. The windows were open and the fo'csle was pretty noisy; my shift was having a lively time in there. It was just the two of us, and for a good chunk of time on the Atlantic, i'd hoped I'd get a chance to discover if Lana was ticklish or not. A opportunity never seemed to come, until now.
So I did what I'd usually been doing up to that point. Up until then, I'd learned bits of Spanish to get by while we'd stopped in the Canary islands, but speaking it and reading it are two different things entirely. So i'd been asking Lana to explain an define certain words, so that I could put the pieces together whenever I'd start speaking it out loud. A wild plan was hatched when I realized that she was sitting with one foot crossed on her lap, not too far from my hand.
"Ok, so what is the word 'cosquililas'?" I asked her.
"Ahhhh, cosquillas," she'd corrected how I pronounced it (I'd studied in college the Argentinian dialect), and then used her fingers to demonstrate while explaining "It is sensitivity, you know? Like tickly..." She ran little spider fingers across her arms.
"Ohhh, really?" (No kidding. I'd already known at that point for obvious reasons) "Sooo, tu es tiene cosquillas?!" I am fairly confident I totally butchered the damn Spanish, but I did NOT butcher the act; I reached down with an index finger and ran it from the ball of her foot, across the arch, all the way towards the heel.
Her laughter rose several octaves in a startled gasping giggle, and she yanked her foot away real quick. "Si, yes, I am very." She was laughing, I was chuckling, and that was it. A few crewmembers sounded like they were coming out of the fo'csle, so I left it off from there. It was a hell of a moment, though, and one of my fondest when it comes to tickling. To me, tickling is as much a demonstration of friendly affectation as it is romantic. I prefer it that way.
And I did keep in touch with Lana when I got off of the ship in Brazil. She and her Czech boyfriend had a little boy, last I heard, and she had to leave the ship to take care of their child. Either way, i'm thankful that I got that little moment! I still have yet to improve my Spanish though....
Of which, I'll spare you the details of. I'd be more than happy to talk about it in pm's or something, but that's not the story. The ship was huge, and even had its own bar, as absurd as that sounded (the whole Three Sheets to the Wind thing happened to me at least once, and more than once I'd climbed up one of the masts to do some work more than a little buzzed...)
As you can imagine, on a ship like that, a lot of people wore sandals or walked around barefoot. Me personally, i'd prefer to have shoes on, water shoes at the very least. But the ship's Chilean bartender, who'll i'll just call Lana, was always barefoot. I think I did a double take once when she wore shoes! But she had very lovely-shaped arches, and she was quite lovely. Short dark hair, dark eyes, pleasant smile, always upbeat and friendly. She spoke Spanish and English fluently, and I only speak English fluently when i'm writing or sober.
For some reason when we were a week out from Brazil, I was off duty and drinking, and found a place to sit next to her on the main deck just outside of the fo'csle. The windows were open and the fo'csle was pretty noisy; my shift was having a lively time in there. It was just the two of us, and for a good chunk of time on the Atlantic, i'd hoped I'd get a chance to discover if Lana was ticklish or not. A opportunity never seemed to come, until now.
So I did what I'd usually been doing up to that point. Up until then, I'd learned bits of Spanish to get by while we'd stopped in the Canary islands, but speaking it and reading it are two different things entirely. So i'd been asking Lana to explain an define certain words, so that I could put the pieces together whenever I'd start speaking it out loud. A wild plan was hatched when I realized that she was sitting with one foot crossed on her lap, not too far from my hand.
"Ok, so what is the word 'cosquililas'?" I asked her.
"Ahhhh, cosquillas," she'd corrected how I pronounced it (I'd studied in college the Argentinian dialect), and then used her fingers to demonstrate while explaining "It is sensitivity, you know? Like tickly..." She ran little spider fingers across her arms.
"Ohhh, really?" (No kidding. I'd already known at that point for obvious reasons) "Sooo, tu es tiene cosquillas?!" I am fairly confident I totally butchered the damn Spanish, but I did NOT butcher the act; I reached down with an index finger and ran it from the ball of her foot, across the arch, all the way towards the heel.
Her laughter rose several octaves in a startled gasping giggle, and she yanked her foot away real quick. "Si, yes, I am very." She was laughing, I was chuckling, and that was it. A few crewmembers sounded like they were coming out of the fo'csle, so I left it off from there. It was a hell of a moment, though, and one of my fondest when it comes to tickling. To me, tickling is as much a demonstration of friendly affectation as it is romantic. I prefer it that way.
And I did keep in touch with Lana when I got off of the ship in Brazil. She and her Czech boyfriend had a little boy, last I heard, and she had to leave the ship to take care of their child. Either way, i'm thankful that I got that little moment! I still have yet to improve my Spanish though....
It was with a woman on the beach who I asked to help me out with some words. It was very funny. Your story reminded me of that sweet little moment. 
Thanks for sharing your experience here. 
