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Let’s just get this out of the way up front:

Yes, my name is Inigo Montoya.
Yes, this is my given birth name.
Yes, I am aware that “Inigo Montoya” is also the name of a character from the 1987 romantic fantasy film The Princess Bride.

No, my father was not murdered.
No, I do not intend to kill you as vengeance for the murder of my father.

If you can believe it, this actually happens to me a lot. I have seen The Princess Bride. Once at a middle school sleepover and another time on a flight flying home from my nephew’s bar mitzvah. To be honest, I don’t get the fascination, but we aren’t here for a movie review. Really, I just want to clear up any confusion you may be having and push through. Like I said, this actually happens to me a lot.

You have to understand, The Princess Bride had not yet been released when I was born. Though it may seem as if my parents named me in homage to the film’s Inigo Montoya, the timeline simply does not work. As well, I would imagine it’s unlikely the character Inigo Montoya was in some way named in homage to me. I realize the latter may seem more obvious, but as we’re here anyways, I find it often best just to lay all information out for optimal clarity.

I suppose it could be viewed as a blessing and a curse. On the plus side, people don’t often forget my name. On the other hand, being confused for practically a household trope of heroism, honor, and great physical skill only makes for that more significant of a let down once they realize that you embody such characteristics in almost no way whatsoever. Even abilities acquired in circus camp (juggling, sleight of hand magic) seem far from impressive after that build up.

It really started to get out of hand when I met my wife—I’m sorry—ex-wife. Her brother, a pottery artisan, and I became close friends and started spending a lot of time together. It’s worth mentioning his height, which is 6’5”. Not exceptionally tall, but taller enough than I am such that when we were together, well, you see where I’m going with this. It only furthered people’s confusion to meet a man coincidentally named Inigo Montoya who was also coincidentally friends with a huge dude in a muddy burlap smock. His name wasn’t “Fezzik,” of course, but let’s be honest, most people don’t remember that name and default sooner to “Andre The Giant,” which was the actor’s name and, as well, was not the name of my brother-in-law. Of course, were he named “Andre The Giant,” I’m sure that would present a similarly tough life predicament. But who names a kid “the Giant” anyway?

Listen, I hope at this point we can move past this defaulted introduction and onto the matter at hand. I clearly feel self-conscious about it, but that is my burden, something I am working on, despite how this looks right now. Now, enough about me. Tell me about—.

Oh, darn. That’s time. Heh, guess that’s why they call it speed dating!

Jay Kasten

A writer, actor, and director living in Los Angeles just waiting for anybody to let him do those things.

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