Sharing a name with a celebrity is at most times a real blessing. Ever have issues getting a restaurant reservation? I don’t, since I happen to share a name, if you get a bit creative with the whole nicknames bit, with both a BAFTA Award-winning actor and a semi-well-known food critic. Now, there is sometimes that look of utter disappointment on the face of the hostess as they’re showing you to your table. I am, like most men, already well versed in the female eye-rolling sigh, so it’s nothing one wouldn’t experience in the next few minutes anyway. Sometimes, however, they still think I’m the famous guy.
The furtherest I’ve ever taken it before saying: ‘you must have me confused with someone else’ happened in a pub. Two rather enthusiastic, South African barmaids had me take a picture with them, much to the amusement of my date. Apparently they thought I’d be shorter and was dating some Hollywood actress. The girl I was with just kept giggling in the corner, but did finally chirp up saying: ‘oh, he gets that all the time.’ We did get a free round for a couple of signed beermats after she implored me to give the girls my autograph. I not only have no shame, but I seem to date women who happen to share this same trait. It’s probably not a good thing, but they definitely wouldn’t date me if they did possess certain common human emotions. I mean, morality is of course, relative, and, what can I say, my friends and relatives like actually getting a hard to get dinner reservation.
The whole thing is that I look absolutely nothing like the actor in question; I’m much taller and better looking. I would, however, gladly trade careers and bank balances. Alright, I’m definitely quite a bit taller, and I sure as hell don’t have massive jug-ears. Sure, we might share eye and hair colours, plus like the other Jaime, I do have a bit of a big nose, but I’m clearly not ‘that actor guy’. There are of course the other tells of me not being of the same nationality, dressing like a hipster, or having kissed a guy on film to get a BAFTA, which I would gladly do to win one should any casting agents be wondering. Although, I probably do look a bit like the food critic guy, but I’m pretty sure I’d be like Homer Simpson attempting to do that job.
I’m aware that Homer was a food critic in Guess Who’s Coming to Criticize Dinner, and things ended poorly when Lisa quit writing for him. I just don’t care, and wanted to put in that clip; sorry.
Fortunately for me, I don’t happen to share a name with an actual A-lister, so I don’t have people calling me at all hours. When I was a little kid, my nanny had to get an unlisted number and an anonymous post office box. Her husband happened to share a name with Michael Jackson. That must have been hell on earth for a while. I’m just happy able to get dinner reservations slightly more easily than I would otherwise, because some short guy kissed another guy in a popular movie.