Your Break Between Classes

Part-Time Funny Man


There are a handful of people walking the planet that you must check off your list of characters to meet, at some point in your lifetime. After scrolling down this page, consider a line on your list checked. Meet George Chapman, Jr. On paper, he appears as regular as any college student could be. In person, it’s a completely different story.

“It’s so frustrating having a head so long. Everyone can wear a snapback. It doesn’t work for me.”

I just had to write that down.

“I like your little ensemble today,” he says to me.

On my lazy day, I threw together a tan pashmina-scarf-turned-turban, oversized gray Cosby sweater, semi-sheer grannyesque maxi skirt, and some beat up Chuck Taylors (along with a little mahogany lipstick to avoid looking like bum central).

“I am ready for love…” He croons a couple of India.Arie’s favorite hits jokingly. “I am not my hair.”

My face drops briefly in response, resembling that of a flattened Emoji, but like most, I can’t help but shake my head and crack a smile. “Oh, George.”

That’s the usual response to George Chapman.

@writefromBK Heading to the doctor with my sister and her fiancé to find out the sex of the baby! Come on blue ivy!!!!

It is noon on a school day in the yearbook office at Howard University, and the pop culture aficionado (or more so, lover of all things Beyonce) is fiercely defending his peers’ denial of her baby’s existence. “She did have that baby. You leave her and Blue Ivy alone!”

“George, she doesn’t even know you!” snaps a skeptic.

“Of course she does, I’m the baby sitter!

After a brief moment of silence and confusion comes the usual Chapman response followed with an outbreak of laughter: “Oh, George.”


 “My mom’s gone backwards. She thinks she’s 20. She said, “Are you going on spring break? Don’t forget your condoms so you can get it in.” If you know anything about me, you know I don’t get it in. I just sit there.” 

Everybody hates Chris. But apparently, the universe loathes George.

On Feb. 2, he went to his teacher to tell him why he was absent from class the previous week. It wasn’t due to work or illness or even a hangover. It was robbery.

“He started laughing. I didn’t even say anything,” George began, with an emotionless face.

“They broke into my house,” said George, who lives with his sister, who was three months pregnant at the time. “Of all the houses in that complex, they chose mine. They broke into it, took our sh*t, loaded it into the car, and stole the car. My sister’s car. F***ing D.C. crack heads out here.”

On the surface, it was apparent that he was still mind blown, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that the strange occurrence was just another Chapman misfortune running its course.

“She might have left the door open,” he admitted. “Her pregnant self forgets.”


If you couldn’t tell by his twitter handle, @writefromBK, George has always had a way with words. He’s a storyteller if you will. Actually, George is a rambler, to say the very least.

“I wish I had a deep voice. I can’t even sing low. I was the only boy that the choir director let sit in the front with the sopranos. I used to ask my mom, ‘Mom, did you like my song?’ She said no.”

Witty statements like this come from his mouth a mile a minute, seven days a week, 365 days a year. Whenever there’s a lull in a room that Chapman is in, he wanders through his memories and starts telling stories about his childhood, present, and future.

“One of [my sister’s] boyfriend’s didn’t like me,” he told a room full of classmates. “He told her, ‘Yo, your brother is so f***ing weird.’ He said I was a nerd.”

His closest friends repeatedly tell him that he should do stand up comedy, but the quirky Howard University journalism student hardly considers himself a comedian. Chapman simply tells it like it is and, more often than not, people listen to the eccentric Brooklynite with open ears.


“My life changed when I met Bianca. I found my other half. I found someone just as awkward as me.” 

At 22, George has been battling his vices, situational mishaps, and self-diagnosed social flaws for years.

“I’ve been trying to develop swag since I was in high school,” he said. “They don’t sell that in stores.

I beg to disagree with this swag shortage, but in the end, George will always be George. A brilliant mind is hidden behind his small frame, black rimmed glasses, and quirky spirit, and it is evident that he will always be loved and readily received by his peers, perpetual misfortune or not.

“Recently, I had an epiphany. I accepted that this is me.”


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