Fever Pitch

“I just feel like I was born in the wrong generation, ya know?”

I picked at the cherry tomatoes left in my garden salad. Disgusting. Nothing worse than the sour burst of flavor. The chefs at Chili’s insist on putting them in every salad, despite the number of times I requested them to be left out. Ashley, the server, swore this time would be different, but here I was rolling them around with my fork.

“Yeah, I think a lot of people feel like that. Like wanting to see The Beatles perform or buy Microsoft stock.” My date chuckled. He ordered the Oldtimer with cheese. By far the blandest burger someone could order. No onions or lettuce, just an undersalted slab of meat topped with American cheese. His drink of choice was water with little ice. If he hadn’t been so cute, I would’ve walked away already. What can I say? I’m a sucker for brown eyes.

The Chili’s was practically empty tonight. A lone bald man swore at a football game. There was one family piled into a booth. The mom gave her toddler a bite of a mozzarella stick. 2010’s pop music filled in the silence. I preferred the nights when they played 90’s rock. It pumped me up.

Chili’s was my go-to spot for dates. A bit fancy but not as nice as somewhere like The Cheesecake Factory or Olive Garden. The menu had vegetarian options for a picky guy and cheap drinks for when the conversation is stunted. If the date is a real bust, I can always resort to paying $1.99 to play games on the tablets at the table. I felt my fingers inching closer and closer to the tablet.

“What generation do you wish you were born in?” My date inquired. His name was Michael, but he preferred going by Mike. He worked at an insurance office as an in-house accountant. When I asked about his hobbies, he talked in-depth about watching Ted Lasso. He did have a full head of hair, which was a bonus. Most of my dates severely lacked in the hair department.

“I wish I were born in the 70s,” I stated.

“Ah, that’s fun. You could’ve seen David Bowie perform. Or Queen.” He patted his paper napkin to his lips, removing the grease stains from his average burger from his face.

“Well, really. I would want to be in New York City in the late 90s to early 00s. There was a lot happening.”

“Oh yeah! Wasn’t Seinfeld doing comedy shows around then? You could’ve seen some great people.”

“I do love comedy. Really, I would want to see, like, Saturday Night Live.” I paused, hesitant about whether I should say the next part or not. “It would be cool to have seen Jimmy Fallon on Saturday Night Live. He’s really funny.”

“I didn’t know Jimmy Fallon was on SNL. I thought he just did the Tonight Show. That’s cool.” Mike smiled. “You know, some people say I look like him. I don’t see it, though.” I cocked my head, pretending to be puzzled by this statement.

I was not puzzled at all, however. I noticed it. I noticed it immediately. Swiping through subpar guy after guy, not one of them having the looks or charm of Jimmy Fallon. Jimmy was the star of my heart. He was amazing at singing, okay at acting, and his laugh was just so cute. I spent many nights rewatching old sketches of his on YouTube. Why couldn’t I be near him? Making him laugh and cuddling with him after he had a hard day of playing trivia with vapid celebrities was all I wanted.

Now, Mike was not Jimmy Fallon. He couldn’t tell a joke or ask me interesting questions about my life story. When I asked who his favorite celebrity was, he said, “Ryan Reynolds.” But I am willing to look past that if it means being together forever with a slightly fatter clone of Jimmy. Maybe I could even change Mike to be more like Jimmy? This was my happy ever after staring at me.

“You know, now that I am looking at you, I could see the resemblance to Jimmy, I could.” I put on a masterclass of a performance. “Have you ever taken an improv class?”

“Me? God no. Terrible stage fright.” He laughed while my heart sank further into my chest. “I love sitting in the audience and absorbing the performance.” Sitting in the audience? My Jimmy would never miss out on an opportunity to shine. He loved making people laugh. It’s what he dedicated his life to. How could Mike not want to be onstage?

“But do you like at least telling jokes?” I pushed, hoping there was a redeeming quality somewhere.

“No, I’ve never considered myself a funny person. My mom says I’ve been serious since birth. I do enjoy an occasional comedy film, though. Have you ever seen Deadpool? Very raunchy, but it left me in hysterics.” Mike laughed to himself as if he said something amusing. He took a sip of slightly chilled water. His beautiful brown eyes locked with mine. Why must something so gorgeous be so cruel?

“Everything alright?” He asked.

“I didn’t like Deadpool.” I replied coldly. The truth was, I enjoyed it a little bit, but knowing Mike liked it made it feel wrong. Somehow, he could turn even a gory action film into a snoozefest. Maybe that was his talent. He was Jimmy Fallon’s antithesis.

“Hey, that’s cool. Everyone has different tastes. You know I love Adam Sandler movies. Have you ever heard of Jack and Jill?” The final pierce to my heart. How could he possibly enjoy Adam Sandler films? I’m aware that Jimmy and Adam are friends but liking another SNL guy would be the ultimate betrayal to Jimmy. I refused to watch any of Adam Sandler’s films. Nothing would be as good as Fever Pitch.

“I can’t do this.” I threw a $20 bill on the table to cover my portion of the meal and a tip. There was no way I was putting up with this for another 15 minutes just so I could get a lava cake.

“Wait, wait, did I do something wrong? I’m sorry. Was it Deadpool?” He stared at me. I would not be weak to those eyes again.

“I’m sorry. I tried to make this work, but you’re just not Jimmy.” Tears streamed down my face.

“I’m Mike?” He was puzzled.

“I know. And that’s the issue.” I stormed out of the Chili’s.

No matter how hard I tried, no matter how many dates I went on at Chili’s, they were never Jimmy. The men all had qualities of Jimmy, like good hair, money, or a sense of humor, but they were always missing that star package. I don’t expect to marry Jimmy, but I expect my partner to at least emulate him to the fullest. I will find my dream man one day.

But for tonight, I would go back home and watch Fever Pitch again.