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Thighboot Club - A Tall Story

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Spring has sprung
We do what we please
And wear our boots
Above our knees

Carol (black crotch high boots and suspected of owning whip), our Fearless Leader and Grand Foo Pah called the meeting of the Thigh Boot Club to order.   For this club, order is a relative term.  In this context it meant Carol stood up on a table (a sight to behold) and yelled at everybody to be quiet.  Quiet is another of those relative terms which, in this case, meant that folks should stop dancing, yelling, and fighting, although there is little of that, and sort of find a place to sit down.   Most folks took the hint and made their way to a table by way of the bar, which made Jerry (black boots with 4" block heels and ankle zipper, the club owner) happy, and also because the meetings seem to go better over drinks.

Once everyone was quiet (another of those relative terms) Carol, still stand on the table in her boots, called the meeting to order and asked if there was any old business.  After a general murmuring and hubbub It was decided to leave well enough alone and to proceed so Carol asked for new business.   Tim (pull on thigh boots with 4" stilettos and a cross dresser) asked if it wasn't time to elect new officers and was reminded, by Carol with a stomp of a stiletto heel, that we had just done that at the last meeting and they were stuck with her for a year.

The way Carol runs things is kind of new to us.  Previously we had just gathered at Jerry's and the last person to show up bought a round of drinks.  Sometimes, after the round had been served, someone else showed up and we had to start all over again with another round of drinks.  This formal meeting stuff at least made for an entertaining spectacle.

Carol then suggested that we should organize a social media account.  Mary (grey suede boots with 4" heels and white leggings) asked why we should bother doing that since we all knew where everybody lived and we met regularly here at Jerry's.  Carol said it was so we could have unfettered access to the public.  Betty(silver boots with 5" stilettos over red leggings) said that to have that access all, we had to do was walk outside.  Bill (black boots with 4" block heels) said, "Yeah, folks tend to notice us".   Carol however insisted that it would allow us to counter the message the press reported about us.  Sally (red thigh boots with 4" stilettos over black leggings) said that she didn't remember ever seeing anything about us in the newspaper and that the newspaper hadn't bothered to cover the Easter Parade we had participated in.  Carol wasn't too happy at our lack of enthusiasm over her idea and suggested we were a bunch of leadites.  Ray (black OTK boots with 5" stiletto heels with hacker skills) then asked what platform the account would run on,  what the encryption level would be, and if we had considered that our information could be stolen?  Kim(black OTK boots with 4" stilettos) asked, "What information?" and that she thought the idea was for people to see whatever it was we put on social media.  The discussion (another relative term) then descended into everyone saying stuff like, "Hey I could write about the party we had...", "Remember the time we...", "Will we be able to post pictures?", and "Can we tell about the time Carol...".

At this point something happened that we had never seen before... Carol changed her mind.  At least that what it looked like when she again stomped her stiletto heeled foot and said we were a pathetic bunch and social media was better off without us.  At which point William(red suede thigh boots with 5"stilettos with handcuffs as ankle chains) called for the treasurers report.

The treasury still had the $3.28 a group of patrons at a Bob Evans gave us as a tip for providing a unique dining experience when a bunch of us showed up there for dinner a few years ago.  Since the treasury is just kind of symbolic anyway, we decided to just keep it as a reminder of the good time we had earning it.  This raised everyone's spirits and with Carol still standing on the table,  Jerry (black boots with 4" block heels and ankle zipper, the club owner) called for another round of drinks.

Carol called the meeting adjourned and took the general hubbub of getting drinks as agreement vote as she climbed down off the table (another sight to behold).

After the meeting, everyone considered this a successful meeting since, no one had to do anything, no one got hurt (there is occasionally a twisted ankle), the police weren't involved, and the drinks were good.


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