Logging - Nick Spalding Page 0,31

in the direction of my car.

That Armani suit really is quite exquisite. He must work out like a bastard to fit into it so well.

I’m still feeling somewhat star-struck as I pull out of the Currys car park with the Instagram influencer sitting next to me, looking entirely out of place on the threadbare Volvo passenger seat. But there’s something I’m definitely not too sure about going on here . . .

I guess I’d built a picture up in my mind of what Lucas La Forte was like, based on his Instagram feed, but the reality is not quite matching up to expectations. Maybe it’s just the strange circumstances under which we’ve met. If I’d bumped into him at a party in the Seychelles, I’d probably feel a lot differently, but as it stands, there’s a small part of me that’s feeling a little disappointed by the encounter so far. Perhaps it’s the way he insists on coming out with those trite little aphorisms. They seem very wise and interesting in a social media post, but rather silly when spoken out loud.

I am still very pleased to have him sitting in the car with me, though. Lucas La Forte represents a part of my life I no longer have access to, and having him here in the real world with me makes me feel strangely comforted. He’s a constant reminder that all that stuff is still there . . . whether I can see it or not at the moment.

‘It’s great to meet you, you know,’ I confide to Lucas as we drive along. ‘I’m actually currently on a digital detox, so can’t go on Instagram to see what you’re up to, so it’s nice that I’ve been able to do it in real life!’

‘A digital detox?’ Lucas asks, obviously unaware of the term.

‘Yeah. You know . . . when you come off the Internet completely for a while?’

He looks horrified. ‘Why would you want to do that?!’

‘Because I’ve been having a few health problems,’ I tell him, a bit awkwardly. ‘The doctor told me it would be good for me.’

Lucas nods sagely. ‘Ah. That’s interesting. When someone wise tells you to take a course of action for your own benefit, you would do well to grasp it with both hands.’

Jesus. He likes a lot of hand-grasping, this chap, doesn’t he? I hope he has some anti-bacterial gel tucked away in that suit somewhere.

‘I haven’t been doing it long, but it’s really hard.’

‘Is it?’

‘Yes. I feel like I’ve had a limb cut off, you know?’

‘Really? Sounds horrible. I could never do the same kind of thing. I’d die if I wasn’t online.’

‘That’s what I thought too . . . but I haven’t keeled over just yet. I guess . . . I guess I’m starting to see some benefits of not being online so much, as well.’

Lucas vigorously shakes his head. ‘No. No. I couldn’t do it.’

‘Ah well, that’s probably because Instagram has made you rich and famous!’

Lucas shifts in his seat. ‘Yes. Rich and famous.’ He stares out of the windscreen for a moment, looking quite exceptionally uncomfortable, before he visibly relaxes as something occurs to him. ‘But, as I always like to say – if you find a job you love, then you must grasp it with both hands and never let go. Then you will never actually have to work another day in your life.’

I’m pretty sure it was Mark Twain who said that one, actually – without the grasping bloody hands part – but we’ll let it pass, as this is probably a very strange situation for Lucas, and he’s no doubt a bit discombobulated.

Being forced into a journey alongside a freshly minted technological Luddite in his rather tired and rusty Volvo must be extremely discombobulating for someone used to the finer things in life.

‘Well, I do love my job as a graphic designer, but it’s not one I really need the Internet for a lot, unfortunately,’ I confide as we turn in to a suburban street at Lucas’s direction. ‘So I had no excuses when it came to starting the detox. Especially when I was having so many health issues.’ I glance at Lucas. ‘Would you like to hear about them?’

‘Ah . . . OK,’ he says, clearly unsure.

I barrel on regardless. ‘Well, there’s the irritable bowel syndrome, that’s the worst. Gives me a lot of anxiety – not knowing how difficult it’s going to be to go to the toilet from day to day!’

‘Oh,