Busted

Our eyes meet from across the breakfast hall, and I realise that of all the hotels in all of America, I chose the one that Jonny B and his freakish clan are staying in. A mistake, a mistake, a foolish mistake.

"You!" he shouts, charging at me from across the room.

"Arrrrghhhh," he bellows, launching himself headlong at my midriff. We crash into a unusually positioned lorry of grit, he gets up and, showing inhuman strength, picks me up by the throat and shakes me like a naughty baby.

"I feel a little violated," I say, as he slams me down directly on to a salt shaker.

"Damn your violation," he says, "you have been stalking me! Via the internet!"

It appears I have been busted. I decide to plead ignorance. He has long believed me to be unskilled in the ways of technology - little does he know I have a CSE in the use of the ZX Spectrum.
 
"What? I don't even know what the internet is! I booked this holiday on Ceefax! You know that that is as close to modern technology as I get? I'm just here, minding my own business, eating these waffles and syrup, consuming over 2000 calories before 9am. This is surely why America is so great?"

"And the free coffee," he says.

"Yes, that too. The free coffee is a bonus. But I don't know what you're talking about with all this internet business. Remember you showed me that video of that fat kid on that rollercoaster, and I didn't like it because I thought it was like, cruel, and you said I didn't understand the internet, and I said 'you're right', and you said 'you must never use the internet again,' and I said, 'yes, you are right, I will never use the internet again'?"

He pauses momentarily.

"It wasn't you then? It definitely wasn’t you?”

“No. I’d have needed to ask what buttons to press and all that.”

This seems to appease him. He settles like a silverback after a good dump.

"Oh. What are you doing here then?"

"I came to see Graceland," I say. "Uh huh." (This was my impression of Elvis. It was the best I could do at short notice.)

"Oh. I have come to see Dollywood, and see if I could find some good banjo music."

"Yes. You like banjo music. Banjo music makes you happy. You will be happy if you find some good banjo music. I guess I'll see you back in England then."

"Right."

He wanders off, looking slightly dazed, surely with a very suspicious mind. I throw my gear in the Hummer and burn out of town.