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