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.

Not this guy; my ears are normal sized!

Not this guy; my ears are normal sized!

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.

Thank God it isn’t this guy either!

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.

Definitely wouldn’t want to share that name!

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.