Parking on the street at Brenda's is full. It's what he gets for showing up for the 7:30 rush, instead of his usual 6AM. He takes the Volvo around to the back parking lot- the one that's not connected to the road, where you have to drive over the curb. It's... probably a parking lot. It's paved, after all. It's on the coffee shop's property. There's no "employee only" signs, anyway. There is, within reason, room to park a car. Maxwell Wax is sure the management will understand, if they even leave their room long enough to notice.

Hm? Who's this? Some kid in a hoodie, smoking a cigarette behind the building. He's standing right in the way of... what looks more or less like a parking spot, off to the side of some graffiti on the ground. He honks at the kid, who panics and drops his cigarette. Wasn't even lit. Did him a favor, in Max's opinion. He knows firsthand how bad those things can mess you up. He watches the kid round a corner, and pulls into the probably-parking-space. 

He hears a snapping sound as he pulls in. Must've run over the cigarette... do cigarettes go "snap"?

In his rearview mirror, he sees nobody standing on top of the graffiti, and then abruptly sees somebody standing on top of the graffiti. There is no transition between these two states.