The Secret to a Great Ass

By Nicki Post, Writing Class Radio student

         I do this thing, where I clench my ass. Sometimes when I’m listening to music, I’ll do it to the beat. When I drive, I’ll do it as I pass by telephone polls. And when I’m just sitting around, I’ll do it. One side and then the other. When I’m walking, I’ll do it. It’s like this tick that I can’t stop doing. Even as I sit here typing this, I’m doing it. Not all the time, but it’ll just happen. One side, then the other. I time it with each keystroke.

         I worry it makes me walk funny. The only person I ever told was my freshman roommate in college. We were like instant best friends from the first second we met each other in person. Maybe because on the phone we thought we’d hate each other. I thought she was a nerdy color guard. She thought I was a butch athlete. But when we met, we fell in love, like best friend soul mates.

         I told her one night, probably sitting on the bottom bunk bed, probably talking about boys, probably talking about doing dumb drunk things. I don’t know why I told her, but I told her. And she said, “Yeah, sometimes you walk funny.”

         I’ve always done it. I don’t remember when it started or why. But in 4th grade, I was sitting in an assembly and Tyrone Anderson was sitting behind me. I heard him laughing. I was wearing this T-shirt with a small neon yellow fish that’s getting eaten by a bigger neon green fish. And from the other direction, a neon pink fish has an open mouth that’s about to eat the green fish, and again on the opposite side is an even bigger neon blue fish that’s going to eat the pink fish. I heard Tyrone laughing. And he was telling other people and other people were laughing. I knew they were laughing at the neon ocean on my back, but I knew the attention was on me, and there I was, sitting cross-legged, and I couldn’t sit still. I wanted to clench. The right and the left. I can’t remember if I did it or not, but I remember trying not to. The attention was on me. And what if their attention turned from the fish to my ass?

         Sometimes when I’m getting dressed in the morning, I’ll do it. I’ll turn around and look in the mirror, and I’ll clench. I need to see if it’s obvious. Or how obvious. Because I don’t want anyone to notice, but I think it gives me a great ass. It’s a lot of exercise.

allison langer

Allison Langer, MBA, travelled the States taking pictures, later worked for a ski photographer, then took pictures of her friends and their babies. This was the start of a 20-year photography business. She also taught high school photography and entrepreneurship. As her students wrote their business plans, she wrote hers to create a podcast about her writing class, which is now Writing Class Radio.