playing to an empty house

Times Square, at night, completely empty. Imagine that. The neon billboards are flashing, the lights are whirling, yet only one or two people are hurrying by, hands in pockets, hunched against the cold. I saw this last night.

After my shift at the law firm, I am entitled to go home by car service, paid for by the company. That's pretty much standard for night support jobs at big companies in New York City. Let me tell you, after my 12-hour day, it is a nice perk.

But this weekend, the roads were dicey, I couldn't be sure if my street was plowed, and car services were as rare as atheists in the White House. Time to take the subway. I could have gotten a train right under the building where I work, but I decided to walk cross-town and take a different train, to avoid transferring (i.e., waiting) between train lines.

It was cold! (Yes, I know it is colder in Canada. Please do not write to tell me so.) The streets were almost empty. Some cross-streets were closed and had enormous piles of snow in the middle, with plows continuing to add to the small mountain. Three kids were climbing a pile, and a few people were taking their pictures.

And Times Square was utterly deserted, the tourists all gone, New Yorkers having no use for it on a freezing Sunday night.

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