Bean Sold Me Fent Behind Warren Towers: A Personal Story

By Anonymous | Photo by Lizzy Morearty

We all know Bean. She’s the beloved white furry fed that appears randomly across campus and, when we get lucky enough to run into her, temporarily makes us forget that we have seven midterms the next day and two dollars in our bank account. However, the truth is, we only think we know Bean. Like all police, Bean can’t be trusted. Bean is corrupt. Bean may be a police dog by day, but, unbeknownst to most, she is a menace by night. This version of Bean, a malicious monster driven by greed and seething with an unbridled thirst for destruction, is known only by those who have survived an encounter with her. I am one of those people. This is my story. 

As I swung open the doors to exit Rich Hall, a flurry of frigid wind blustered against me. It was still early in the night, and I could hear nothing but my own heartbeat. No music blasting from Nickerson Field. Nobody panicking over their friend that is about to projectile vomit all over the sidewalk. Nothing. A rush of unease trickled throughout my body. A subtle vibration from my pocket reminded me of my purpose for leaving. My fingers numb, I fumbled for my phone and held it up close to my face until the screen was visible. A notification from an unknown number. That’s right. 

Earlier that day, as I lay in bed doomscrolling on TikTok, a message emerged, one that would inevitably spiral into utter chaos: “Doordash: It’s almost Halloween 🎃👻! Stock up on fent before it's too late! Lace your candy and become the most popular trick-or-treating destination in town!” 

With nothing else to do that weekend, I decided to reply to this suspicious message with “I’m interested in purchasing some fent.”

Promptly, the unknown contact responded with an address: 69 Cummington Mall. Freezing my ass off, I decided to take the T. I walked to Babcock Street Station still itching to find out who the sender of this obscure message could possibly be. After waiting for about ten minutes, I realized that it was the T I was waiting for and that it would probably not arrive for another thirty minutes. 

I ultimately decided to walk there and thug it out. Once I finally made my way behind Warren Towers, the dark alleyway of Cummington Mall revealed itself to me. The only source of light was an ominously flickering lamp post that, like the escalator in Warren Towers, probably won’t get fixed for another four years. I withdrew my phone from my pocket once again and texted the number: “I’m here.”

Out from the shadows and into the light came what appeared to be a small dog. I thought it must have been a coincidence that this dog happened to appear just as I sent this text. I continued to wait for the fent dealer to arrive, but as minutes passed, I realized that it was still only me and this dog. Just as I was about to call the entire deal off, I saw the dog drop from its mouth what seemed to be a phone. It tapped the screen with its paws a few times until I felt a vibration coming from my own phone.

“Hey. Is that you over there?”

The dog looked over at me. What the actual fuck is going on, I thought to myself. As I approached it, I came to the realization that this dog was none other than Bean herself. Absolutely flabbergasted, I stood there frozen, whilst Bean stood on her hind legs and said, “tell anyone about this and you’re dead meat. You hear me?”

She motioned her paw across her throat threateningly. 

“You have the money?”

I did not in fact have the money. I was only here out of boredom and I did not actually have any intentions of buying fent. Wanting to continue entertaining this entire situation, I responded saying, “No…but I can do a little jig for it.”

“What?”

“A jig. Like a dance.”

“I know what a jig is. Hand me over the money or I’m gonna start questioning whether you had other reasons for coming here. If that is the case, I might have to dispose of you.”

At that moment, I could not help but laugh. What could Bean possibly do to me? She doesn’t even have opposable thumbs. 

The second it clicked for her that I was not in fact here to buy fent, she went Muhammad Ali on me and started throwing hands, or rather paws. I immediately evaded the scene, only looking back once to see her vengeful eyes staring me down.

Although I made it out alive, I still live in fear that someday she will get her revenge. One detail I forgot to mention, however, is that I did in fact end up with the fent after all. While Bean was talking, I used my own dogs, grippers if you will, to reach over and grab the bag of fent on the floor and place it into my shoe. Now, on Halloween day, trick-or-treaters that show up at my dorm will be delighted with a fent-filled surprise.