By zoning law and perhaps ownership, the four parking spots are part of the park. By position and the fact that none of them face the same way, it's pretty clear that the little bit of parking was made only because somebody, somewhere said it had to be done and didn't care about anything else. The copse of fake trees doesn't do much to obscure any potential surveilance, which confirms something that you might have already suspected.<br/><br/>The park is pretty empty.<br/><br/>In fact.... The place is even more quiet than you'd expect at this time of day. There's a grand total of two people in the flesh and the place is pretty dead on the matrix side. No AROs. No unaccounted extra device icons. No ads. Just a few bog standard MCT-3500 personae, one Spacekook, and what looks like the offspring of the standard personae of an MCT-3500 and a Cyber-X7, if everything was separated near the joints, and the maker decided to alternate between making everything even jaggier and rounded super smooth.<br/><br/>That last one shifts slightly, and Mr. Johnson stirs. You assume it's Mr. Johson based on two things. One, way too well dressed to be a hobo or squatter. Two, the lone visible security guard is giving him space like he was some great and terrible beast, or at least could have him ruined for about the same amount of effort as such a monster could.<br/><br/>Either way the lone person on the bench shifts slightly, but the red cloth on his face stays on.