Later that day, after the sun has set and the air has cooled, the store grows quiet. In the parking lot, a private security SUV with a flashing yellow light on top sits near the exit. Driving the car is a small, elderly man whose tufts of gray hair are barely visible over the steering wheel. Private security jobs like this tend to go for $10 an hour in Tulsa. The “T” on the Walmart sign has burnt out. Stray cats scrounge around. In the far reaches of the lot, people hunker down in their campers, vans, and U-Hauls for the night. It’s nearly midnight in Tulsa, and for a few hours it looks like the local cops may get a break from Walmart