Hey RG,
You mentioned you always wanted to go to a mall, find a saleswoman who popped her feet out of her shoes, and tickle her. It's funny to see someone actually write that down, because long before this forum came about, and before I got old enough to actually worry about getting busted for doing it, I used to do that ALL the time!
It started when I was about 16; I used to go to the mall, or to WalMart, or any other store I could think of that was big enough to have more people than would normally notice what was going on around them. I must have had at least a few hundred fantastic tickling experiences with women who were not expecting it at all. Many times it was just a woman who was sitting down, with her feet out of her shoes underneath her chair, and I'd slip down behind her and reach in... (tickly tickly tickly) BAM, she'd jump in the chair, pull away, and I'd get one of a plethora of responses: anger, surprise followed by either light-hearted laughter or complete confusion (or, again, sometimes anger), and on a few occasions, DELIGHT. That was a rarity, however.
There was, once, a time that I will never forget. I was about 20, in Chicago at the Water Tower Place (which is a shopping mall that's basically built UP instead of OUT), and I'd been doing recon all over the place for a quick, anonymous tickle. By this time in my "career", I was very experienced at it but had never had what I was about to find. I went into, I believe, Marshall Fields, at about 5 minutes to 9pm (they closed at 9). Most everyone was gone already from the store, except for the employees. I was wandering through the store and spied two young women working there, both well-dressed in blouses, skirts, nylons, and heels. I had to maneuver around a bit so as not to appear like I was stalking them; I'd let them out of my sight, examine something mundane, check the price, eyeball where they were, and angle back toward them again.
Anyway, at one point I'd thought they had gone to the back room and I was ready to leave the store because it was already after closing time, and I started to walk out of the department when I unintentionally came right up behind the woman I'd first seen. She was in front of me, kneeling up on a counter in front of some shelving, with her shoes off. She was holding a silver tray with crystal glasses around a crystal carafe in her hands, and getting ready to place it up on a shelf as part of a display. Stunned, and obviously delighted, I walked up behind her and her stockinged feet were hanging over the edge of the counter, exactly at waist-height to me. I reached out and gave her feet a two-second shuffling tickle, thinking she'd immediately round on me and I'd have to make a quick getaway. Instead, she just started laughing and didn't even turn around. I was already about to leave it at that, but the moment was too perfect to walk away so I began to tickle her feet again, this time in earnest. She had these beautiful, small, soft feet, and I'll never forget that moment I touched them a second, more serious time. It must have been a full ten seconds while I tickled her and she just wiggled her feet, beginning to laugh a LOT, when she said "if I drop this, you're paying for it!" She meant the tray of crystal, and by this time I was lost in a haze of the best non-girlfriend, anonymous tickle I'd ever had. It was like being drugged, I was so hot in the face, my head was spinning, and it felt like my fingers and my (you know what) were directly connected. In this haze, I actually answered her by saying "No problem."
THAT broke the spell, because she turned her head and said "WHO ARE YOU?!! STOP THAT!" I suppose she must have thought I was someone else, because until then she'd really seemed to be enjoying having her feet tickled. Unfortunately for her, she was still holding the tray, and rather helpless, so I continued to tickle her feet for another few seconds before a guy came up on the other side of the display (another employee) and she said "This guy won't stop tickling my feet!"
I hightailed it out of there, and I must have been red as a beet all the way down to the ground floor. The entrance/exit of WTP has a very large security desk right in front of it, with some very large security guards behind it, and as I passed them I was absolutely sure one of them was going to stop me and haul me in. Nobody did, however, and ever since that night, I'll never ever forget what I consider the "greatest non-consenting tickle" among my vast endeavors as a roving tickle-fiend.
I don't engage in that practice any more. I'm 34 now, and haven't done that since I was probably 25 or so, but to this day I can't walk into a mall or a store without consciously scoping out the "possibles". I don't mean to sound like some psycho who terrorized women with my behavior, because I never did it in a mean way, but back then (especially in my teens and early 20's), we didn't have the internet, and there was no way for me to know that I wasn't the only tickle-freak in the world. I thought I was the only person who had a true fetish for it, and even though I always tickled my girlfriends, there was a line I wouldn't cross between "playing" and "why the hell do you tickle me every single chance you get, are you some kind of wierdo?" Hence, I would take my unquenchable tickle-lust out on, at least, weekly excursions in order to slate my thirst for a remorseless, anonymous tickle.
Alas, your comment brought out so many memories. I could literally write a tickling novel on the anonymous tickles I had over the years when I was young, "out in the field" I guess you'd call it. The one, above, was probably one of the best ever, though there were certainly others that were extraordinary.
My advice: take a business trip, go "shopping", and do it. There's nothing like it. Beware, though, that I'm sure it's probably against the law to do that; I don't know what the charge is (tickling without a permit, I suppose), but if you ever get someone really pissed about it... run.
