What If I Don't Like Beans? Why I Choose to Be Annoying in TikTok Comments
By: Speshell Hall
The moment I popped out of my mother I was a hater. I can’t verify whether or not I was a hater inside the womb (though my mom’s account of my incessant kicking says otherwise), but I’ve been praying on other people's downfalls ever since I had a conscience. As I got older, I needed a medium to let out this hatred and stan twitter is a little too scary for my liking. So, naturally my next option is the TikTok comments section.
I often find myself staring at family vlog TikTok accounts with contempt. Trust me when I say no one cares about your “Mother of a Newborn” vlog. You need to put that damn baby down! No one is safe from the power of my report button; trust and believe this video was reported for hate and harassment. Paired with a beautifully crafted comment of “dat baby ugly asf” I saw scrolling through.
My FYP is normally a mix of random family content, GRWM videos, and erotic edits of my favorite K-pop idols. I think TiktTok’s algorithm is a bit wonky today because the first thing I see when I open the app is a straight man getting ready when the real intent of the video is to show off his less-than-impressive bulge.
“Hopefully ur grower and not a shower 👍,” I comment.
I scroll.
Next is a Dhar Man video about a little kid who somehow won the lottery with a split screen of a slime video (can’t say I didn't scour the rest of the account for parts 2 and 3). I agree with user1284749 in the comments that this man is one of the best directors of our generation.
I scroll.
Next is the 48 oysters discourse. Listen. I don’t even care about the amount of food she ordered, but imagine how bad her breath smelled after that?
“Casually downing 48 oysters is wild. Ik ur breath smelled crazy after, maybe that's what ran him off.”
I scroll.
I hear the beginning of Aghora Hills by Doja Cat and I know what's coming. Yet another edit of my husband Kim Mingyu. Now, I have zero complaints about this. I rewatch it at least ten times (not forgetting to favorite it), before scrolling past.
I’m getting bored, thus defeating the purpose of TikTok. I switched to TikTok on my iPad because it’s scientifically proven to be a different experience. I scroll through, dodging cooking videos and red pill propaganda until I land on a Goddamn wig livestream. Is anyone even buying those synthetic wigs? I joined the live and saw there were 400 viewers… no way. And they're giving gifts? These people can’t be real.
“What are these wigs made of?” I comment.
“Hi dear, they are made of human hair,” the woman responds in real-time.
“So why do they look like… that?”
“Like what?” she says nervously and looks at someone behind the phone.
“They look like they're made of hay.”
The screen cuts to black. “No, no please it wasn’t my fault!” I hear her cry followed by a loud bang. Woah. “These TikTok pranks are getting out of hand,” I whisper to myself.
“L prank, try something new,” I comment and attempt to leave the live, but my screen is frozen. The comments keep flowing but I can’t exit the stream. I try to swipe out the app, but nothing happens. Even my lock button isn’t working.
“What the hell?” I say, exasperated.
The screen switches from black to a video of someone's house. I look closer. That's my house…
I freeze.
The screen switches to my front door and the person holding the phone walks in. I can’t even breathe, let alone react. Before I can get my bearings the screen switches again and I hear my bedroom door creep open. I see myself on the screen.
“This is how I’m going to die,” I think to myself.
I hear not one but five sets of footsteps. Well, that's weird. I muster up the courage to turn around and I’m met with piercing green eyes. It's Harry Styles…
My jaw drops. I look behind him and see Zayn Malik, Niall Horan, L*am P*yne, and Louis Tomlinson.
“Love, I have some bad news,” he says with that deep British accent.
“Your mother sold you to us for drugs. You belong to One Direction now.”
To be continued….