Chabot-Like Figure Seen Lurking Around Campus

Hang on for a minute...we're trying to find some more stories you might like.

Email This Story

To put it in perspective for those of you who weren’t graced by AJ Chabot’s presence during his three years here, Holderness without AJ is like Grey’s Anatomy without Derek Shepherd, Harry Potter without Ron Weasley, Trump’s campaign without bigotry. Holderness suffered a massive blow the day he received his diploma, leaving gaping holes in our hearts and an unrepairable void on our campus. AJ’s love for Holderness was so strong, many of us were surprised he actually left when his time came.  And to be honest I couldn’t help but begin to question his whereabouts over the past 7 months.  


My suspicions began this past January when my nordic team spent practice up at the OB Cabin splitting wood. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first, until I noticed its subtle signs of occupancy. The typically dirt-covered wood flooring appeared to be swept and the wood pile in the corner was stacked a little too neatly. Several minutes of sleuthing about led to some startling finds. Crammed under a loose floorboard beneath the loft; a quantum physics textbook, notebooks filled with AP Calculus exam prep, and printed copies of every edition of The Picador since 1988.


“AJ.” I muttered.


This discovery led to a plethora of findings as I embarked on a mission to uncover AJ’s true whereabouts and expose his fabricated, so-called “gap year.” I walked the paths of campus with different eyes. Suddenly, everything began to make sense; the mysterious creaks coming from the loft during assemblies, his occasional appearance on the Weekend Activities Google Doc, the fact that Brooke’s speeches have been just too grammatically correct. AJ never left.


Determined to debunk AJ’s fraud, I staked out on the South Side Quad last Saturday Night and confronted him during his midnight raid of the compost pile. Upon realizing that his cover had been blown, AJ immediately burst into tears. “I can’t function outside of Holderness.” AJ sobbed, “The real world just doesn’t care about community! Everyone’s a follower! My roommate had never even heard of Quinn the Eskimo!” He admitted to spending his time doing homework for classes he wasn’t enrolled in and submitting anonymous proposals to the Leadership Council.


Initially, I ridiculed AJ’s inability to move on. But upon recognizing the steady decline of our quality of life at Holderness throughout the past school year, I realized that we need AJ just as much as he needs us. We’ve raised about $32 towards our senior gift, the school has began to adopt an Amish dress code, and even Mr. Peck has gotten tired of his “Three C’s Speech.” Come out from hiding, AJ. We need you back.