The Center had much to recommend it. Its doors knew me from a distance. They clicked open at the command of an infrared pass card that I didn’t even need to take out of my wallet. I flipped backside to sensors, mandrill style. Anyone reading this by accident or nostalgia a hundred years from now will have to take my word for the novelty.
Galatea 2.2 (1995)
Source: books.google.com