Abbott glanced over at the register and caught the cashier looking back at him.
She quickly looked away, like a teacher had just called her out for cheating on a test.
Then Abbott quickly looked away, like it was a contest to see who could be most embarrassed by the accidental eye contact.
Abbott’s understanding of social interactions always ran on a delay ranging from a few seconds to several years, so it took a moment to realize that her reaction implied that she’d recognized him.
[…] He told himself not to look over at the counter again, but for some reason his brain interpreted it as a command to do exactly that.
[…] Abbott paid while the cashier acted like eye contact would turn her to stone.
— Abbott in Jason Pargin, I’m Starting to Worry About This Black Box of Doom, St. Martin’s Press, Ch. Day 1, p. 82-83, 2024