I’ve been in the genie game for quite some time, and I can tell you that what’s happening with Pete Davidson is special. A number of years ago, I granted the young comedian an infatuation wish, and I know, without a doubt, it’s my greatest work. This spell is already being analyzed and studied in genie business schools across the country, and I have it on good authority that my wand and lamp will hang in the genie rafters before long.
And perhaps the craziest part is that its effects are still very much working.
The success of this wish is not some new revelation. Those who have been paying attention to the comedian’s love life (and let’s be honest, an unhealthy amount of the population has), know Pete has been playing with house money for a long time. Countless beautiful and talented women have been charmed by the currently beach-blonde beau, and by all accounts, everyone’s had really positive experiences. Even when things blow up for him, he ends up with a warm shout-out in a hit pop song and a rumor boasting some serious below-the-belt equipment.
I promise you none of my genie relationships have ever been so rewarding.
By all accounts, Pete is a wonderful young man who absolutely has some agency in this. He’s charming, empathetic, caring, funny, and easy on the eyes himself. But he’s assembled a dating resume that makes prime George Clooney and Derek Jeter look like a couple of bashful, ugly ducklings. We are so far beyond what was reasonably expected that this is having real implications on my genie career.
I have numbers I have to hit. Yes, magic is magical, but it’s also how I pay my bills. The brass sees what I did for Pete and I can already feel their expectations shifting that this is to be my new normal. Under no circumstances is this sustainable! I have a genie wife and kid to support and I can’t do that if my manager is expecting every wish to be Pete Davidson-level good!
You might be thinking, “Well surely that’s not an issue, with a score like this you’re set for life?” Oh, how I wish! Genie Corp. is not exactly known for its lucrative bonus pay structure. My genie 401k has seen a modest, and I mean a modest, increase. It’s a classic case of “thanks for the good work, have some company-branded wired headphones and get back to work on the Will Poulter account.”
My loving wife tells me these thoughts are just my imposter syndrome talking. And up until recently, I was willing to hear that faint possibility out. And then over the course of four days, he’s private dining with Kim Kardashian and taking Padma Lakshmi to a courtside Knicks game. When will this nightmare end?! I can’t eat, I can’t sleep – the pressure to perform is excruciating. There is a target on my back, and every day it gets a little bit bigger. My genie peers won’t look me in the eye; I caught wind of a private Slack channel where they all talk shit about me.
Oh, how I wish I could take it back. To tell that young man, “You’re funny, good-looking, and on SNL, you’re not going to need any help in the ol’ romance department. Perhaps we can do something about your taste in tattoos?”
