In the vacant lot, people who live in the tent city are harassed by police officers dressed in riot gear as they sing, sleep, and try to earn money. One officer tries to instigate a conflict with someone who is sleeping under a blanket. She responds with sarcasm, and the officer raises his nightstick to hit her. Mark interrupts by pointing his camera, declaring, “Smile for Ted Koppel, Officer Martin” (47). The officer backs off and exits. Then the woman turns on Mark, demanding, “Who the fuck do you think you are? I don’t need no goddamn help from some bleeding heart cameraman, my life’s not for you to make a name of yourself” (48). Angel tries to calm her, but she is furious, exclaiming, “Let’s go—this lot is full of motherfucking artists” (48). She asks them for a dollar and then smirks at the lack of response before exiting.

After the exchange, Angel muses that New York is a rough place to live. Collins agrees that he’s sick of endlessly grading papers for too little pay. He suggests that they go to Santa Fe and open a restaurant. They sing, dreaming about an easier life in a warmer clime.