You’ve seen them. They’re all around you. Worst case, you might even be one. On the commute to work, out on a Friday night, you just can’t get away from them. That bald, scruffy father of four cruising down the sidewalk on his Onewheel Pint with his AirPods in, darting to his spin class. Or that older colleague with the puke green-dyed hair, who can’t stop talking about how excited she is to go to the Tyler The Creator concert tonight, though she only knows the song “Yonkers.”

If you’ve ever spoken or engaged in conversation with them, then you know how much they love to slip in hip cool slang like “fire,” “drip,” and “lit” at the end of their sentences to blend in better with the younger generation. These delusional tightrope artists are better known as Zoboomers.

All boomer. Some of the zoomer. Zoboomer.

These hybrids trying to recapture their youthful bliss aren’t yet mentally prepared for the dinner parties, the in-law gatherings, the networking events, and the housewarmings that the boomer lifestyle offers. They attribute their unwillingness to cooperate to the thinking that they aren’t like their peers; that they can’t “relate” or “fit” in with them. Whether it's a mid-life crisis or dissociative identity, they take comfort in zoomer toys like Juuls, white t-shirts with mildly annoying mantras, and TikTok to feel noticed.

The sad truth of the matter is that these dopamine hits merely prolong the inevitable, building up for a roaring crash the moment they look into their front-facing camera at a rave to see their bandana slipping off, revealing their receding hairline. Did those zoomers see it? Why didn’t they say anything? I thought since we follow each other on Instagram, we were friends… Don’t get it twisted: they aren’t, and they’re all making fun of your age when you’re not around.

You see zoomers don’t offer safe sanctuary, and while it may appear that they accept you with open arms as you converse about which flavor Juulpods you’re vaping, or the dangling possibility of playing a game of Fortnite in the future, it’s all a clever ruse for them to lure personal information out of you and bring it back to their friends so they can shit-talk you to oblivion. Of course, they have to get through the laundry list that is your physical appearance first, but after that runs dry, personal, intimate attacks are hot on the menu.

You see, the biggest difference between zoomers and boomers, besides age, looks, and pretty much everything else, is that zoomers are mean as shit and have little to no remorse when it comes to kicking a person while they’re down. Boomers at least have the decency to leave you alone and cut all ties if they don’t like you; zoomers will witch-hunt you down on the internet and harass you on every social media platform until you’re hit with cancel culture.

“Some days are better than others. Some days I don’t overhear them talking about me behind my back. Some days I’m not left out in the group chat and told they just forgot,” claims a reputable Zoboomer constantly struggling with her identity.

I plead with you all to stop. The pain. The hurt. Is it worth the acceptance of a few scraggly shitheads? Cause hey, your wife’s been calling and she’s wondering why there are credit card charges for thousands of V-Bucks, and your husband is thoroughly confused why you’re sleeping over at some twenty-something Instagram influencer's dingy studio apartment.

Please just stay in your lane for god’s sake. You’re a boomer. There're no two ways about it. No matter how hard you try to force your way out, you are old, and therefore you have already lost. Let go. Don’t be afraid to fall off that tightrope once and for all because there’s a safety net that will always welcome you back home. A safety net aged with resistance and tension that’s endured the trials of life and come out on top every single time. What is the name of this silent protector, this watchful guardian, this dutiful custodian?

It’s boomer.