His head jerked violently towards the cashier hovering above him. Muttering something about "large coffee, black," he kept staring across the room at her. Would she even recognize him? Could he even be sure it was really her he was seeing? He was still PRETTY hung over. He tried to move over, to get a better look at her...those goddamn fake plants they throw all around in these places.
Finally, with his coffee in hand, which took way too long to make and tasted of something that god himself could not even describe, he jolted quickly out the door, hoping, praying she didn't see or recognize him. He tried looking himself over, but stopped suddenly. He couldn't bare the thought of her seeing him like this, after all this time.
Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigerettes and lit one up, walking away quickly.