The Wrong Cal

I look up from the picture on my phone screen to the person sitting at the end of the bar, right where he said he’d be. Dark hair, tan jacket… must be the guy.

Well, this is off to a great start.

‘Calvin’, the 27-year-old private trainer I’ve been messaging for the past two weeks, looks nothing like his profile picture. What a surprise.

The man sitting at the bar, waiting quietly with a full glass of beer in front of him, locks eyes with me and gives me a quizzical glance. He stands, tucks his bar stool under, and takes a few steps towards me, bringing the glass along with him.

He seems to think for a moment, and then asks, “Katie?” I watch as he quickly glances me over, as I do to him now we’re both standing.

He’s a lot shorter than his profile said.

I reach out my hand as if to shake his, unsure what the proper etiquette is for a first date. “It’s Kate, actually. Only my mum calls me Katie, and that’s only when I’m in trouble.”

He laughs a little too quickly, and as his hand takes mine, I cringe a little at how warm and sweaty it feels against my palm. “Cal. Nice to finally meet you.”

He leads me back to his place at the bar and takes me by surprise as he pulls out my chair first, gesturing for me to take my seat before he gets back up onto his. “Would you like a drink? I hope you don’t mind that I already ordered; I was a tad nervous about this if I’m honest and thought I’d get here a bit earlier than we planned.”

I point to his still-full glass. “But you haven’t drank any of it yet?”

“Of course not - that would be rude of me!” At that moment a bartender, a young woman barely out of her teens, walks over to us. “What drink would you like, Kate?”

I mull it over for a moment, then decide on a simple gin and tonic. Cal orders with the bartender, whose nametag reads ‘Gabby’, and she passes the drink to me so fast I almost spill it over the table.

I take a long swig and gather my courage. However, before I can begin to ask about his profile being different, Cal starts talking.

“I don’t want to be rude, here, and I apologise if this is pushy or- or superficial, but,” he fumbles with his words while running his fingers over the edge of his glass, distractedly, “but you don’t seem like the person I’ve been messaging for weeks. I- I don’t mean that in a horrible way, and-” His eyes grow wide and a blush rushes across his face. “God, this sounds awful. Er, you don’t look much like your picture, and I’m worried now that I’ve been catfished or something, so I might just, er, go…” He looks towards the doors I walked in through just a minute ago.

I furrow my eyebrows at him. “What do you mean, ‘I don’t look like my picture’? I took that photo last month while I was at the beach with my girlfriends! I know I had more of a tan then, and my roots have grown out a fair bit since then, but I don’t look as different as you do!” I grind my teeth and dig around in my bag for my phone. “Here, I’ll show you-”

“Wait… I don’t look different in my picture - I’m wearing the same jacket to make it easier to find me, like I said I would in the messages. I look exactly the same, I don’t know what you’re talking about. This, this is some catfish thing, isn’t it?” He looks so genuinely hurt by this idea; it almost breaks my heart.

I find my phone and pull it out, tapping out the wrong passcode three times before it lets me in. Beside me, Cal starts to stand, brushing imaginary dust from the front of his jeans. My phone pings and I groan.

Of course I need to re-enter my login details to the app before I can show this liar the reason he is, in fact, a liar.

“Wait, just wait- I’m telling the truth here-”

Cal pushes the glass of beer towards the other side of the bar, and says to Gabby, “Is there any way you could pour this away for me? I’m heading home now.” She nods and looks between us with suspicion but takes it away anyway. He turns back to me, sadness written across his features. “You keep the drink, I’ve paid for it, but I- I’m not interested in whatever this is. It was nice to meet you, Kate.”

He turns away from me and starts towards the door. The app finally loads and I open the messages we sent an hour ago. “Wait, Calvin! Look- see, I’m right - you’re the one who looks different, not me.”

Cal turns around and blinks at me, confused. “What did you call me?”

I swallow and look back at his profile. “Calvin, like it says right here…” I say, turning the phone screen to show him what I was reading from. He walks back over to me and stares hard at the picture.

“That’s… not me.”

Sighing loudly, I huff out, “Yeah, I know- that’s my point.”

Cal takes his own phone out of his back pocket and opens the same app, showing me his version. The woman on the screen is most definitely not me. Katie has bleach-blonde hair, freckles across her cheeks, several piercings in both ears, and a tattoo of a lotus flower twisting up the side of her neck.

“And this… this isn’t you, is it?”

We stare at the other pictures for a few moments longer, look up at each other, and laugh. Not a fake, forced laugh. A real one, that has us leaning against the bar stools for support.

“So, you’re not a catfish?” Cal asks between breaths, clicking on his own profile so I can see the real him. I shake my head and do the same, and we switch phones for a moment. “It’s Caleb, by the way. Your other guy must be Calvin.”

I smile as I read through - not a personal trainer, like the other Cal. Caleb, 25, an English teacher at the local high school. Enjoys reading, theatre, basketball, and lazy mornings.

We sit back at the bar, and I hear the message alert sound from my phone. Caleb hands it over straight away, blinking. “I think it’s from other me.” I laugh and read it over.

‘Sorry K. Can’t meet 2nite. Txt u soon?’

I roll my eyes and delete the conversation. “He wasn’t that interesting, anyway. My mum’s been telling me to meet people for ages, so I thought I’d try out online dating, but…”

“It’s not been going the way you hoped?” Caleb adds, unzipping his jacket. “Man, I’m getting warm in here.”

I nod and turn off the phone, putting it back in my bag. “Did you maybe want to stay for that drink, after all?” I bite my lip, unsure of how he might respond, but breathe out a small, relieved sigh when he smiles and shrugs the jacket from his shoulders. He reaches for his wallet, but I raise a hand to stop him. “No, no- you’ve already bought us drinks. I’ll get the next ones, especially as you didn’t even get to drink your first one.”

Caleb debates for a second, then nods. “Sure, I think that sounds fair.”

We order with Gabby, who seems even more confused with us each time she walks past.

I turn to Caleb, holding out my hand again. “Let’s start over. Hi, I’m Kate. Nice to meet you.”

Smiling, Caleb takes my hand and says, “It’s lovely to meet you, Kate. I’m Caleb.” His hand doesn’t feel clammy any more, just soft, and warm.

And comforting.

“So, I saw on your dating bio that you like reading? What books have you read that you’d recommend?” I ask, and just like that, we fall into an easy companionship that whiles away the evening.