Inside Scoop: The Elderly Couple That Watched You Hit Your Vape Says YOU Will Never Amount to Anything

Article by: Lucie L | Photo by: Grace W

Have you ever strolled down Comm Ave and felt a heat lamp of generational disappointment roasting the back of your neck? Or perhaps the fury of a thousand flaming Taki’s burning in your stomach? That is not the voice of Satan whispering sweet nothings, nor the fury of a fast walker overtaking you. That is Gertrude and Gerald.

Every day, Gertrude and Gerald sit at the bench next to 610 Commonwealth to enjoy some sun and judge the living shit out of the BU student body. They do not scroll. They do not blink. They simply observe. Gerald once saw a freshman hit a mango ice and whispered, “That one will never know compound interest.” Gertrude nodded as if she had just watched Rome fall.

You may be thinking, “I am a god-fearing, Starbucks-abstaining Samaritan. The elderly love me.” And to that I say, you stupid child, not only does your appropriation of 80s outfits offend their very soul, but they can see the vape in your pocket burning a hole straight down to hell. They do not see a blue razz. They see your future regional sales position. They see the LinkedIn post you’ll write in 2029 about “pivoting into impact consulting.”

We have all agreed that the socially acceptable thing to do around boomers is to smile politely and sit with the awkwardness of our fleeting youth. However, Gertrude and Gerald would like it to be known that your cheeky grin does not equate to repentance, and you can flash those fuzzy yellows all you want, but when the rapture comes, you will be left behind (with a half-charged vape in hand and a minor in entrepreneurship).

Gerald actually believes the second coming will be triggered by one more student saying, “It’s giving.” Ruth disagrees; she thinks the moon boots-wearing, Monster Energy drinking, midriff showing girls will influence God to finally log off. Another piece of evidence, in their opinion, for why Eve is at fault for the destruction of society.

If you think you're slick with your ghosts and French inhales or the ever-so-elusive sleeve trick, think again. The trail of smoke sputtering behind you has sealed your fate. They have already decided you peaked in high school. They can sense when you live in the West. They can hear the word “situationship” from across the street, and it makes their knees ache. They do not fear your nicotine addiction. They fear your minor in marketing.

Now, some of you may instead be thinking, why do I care if two old farts think I’m destined for failure? Well, I will have you know that they once exorcised a Juul from a freshman using only a rosary and a CVS coupon, so let’s not underestimate the power of a holy ghost. If you need any more proof of their willpower, Gerald was the original RA of Warren Towers (Gertrude lived on his floor, but who can blame a girl for having a crush on someone with perceived power that actually is useless).

If you are closely connected with your grandparents and feel deeply offended by this rejection, please consider that you should maybe shut up and chill out (definitely not by abusing your dopamine receptors with flavored air). Although I might just be salty because my grandparents don’t condone my bisexual woke self. The point stands — hit your vapes till your lungs collapse and work extra hard to get that degree in finance because capitalism truly will save us all.

And when you walk past that bench, tote bag swinging, vape tucked safely away, remember this: the Lord may forgive. Gerald and Gertrude will not.