the city that never sleeps
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Taxis, buses and commuters pass through the Brooklyn Bridge at 5:54 p.m. 

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Roommates get ready to go out in Williamsburg at 10:01 p.m. 

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Woman plays video games at a bar at 12:10 a.m.

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Friends eat snacks at a bar in Williamsburg at 12:46 a.m.

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The night ends at 2:21 a.m. 

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A man enjoys his last moments of sitting on the bar before being asked to sit down in Manhattan's Lower East Side at 1:53 a.m.

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Woman presents shots in syringes at 2:11 a.m. 

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Friends eat Indian food among lights on a Monday night at 10:24 p.m.

BONUS!

125 Sullivan Street

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It doesn't look like much.

I'll be the first to admit that, but this little no-elevator, plain glass door, SoHo apartment with rooms tiny they could be mistaken for closets was where my mother lived during the 80's in New York City.

My mom, Chrissa Houlihan Elliott, was a model and a flight attendant. When I was younger, I thought that seemed like the easiest job ever. All she had to do was sit there and look pretty, right?  And she even got to travel for free!

Wrong. 

The airline she worked for flew back and forth to Paris every couple of days. I know she loved it, but it sounds more glamorous than it actually was. 

Long hours, $99 per flight and $925 a month rent for a bathroom that's door couldn't even close if you sat all the down on the toilet led to a lot of confusion and questioning. 

My mom said that because of the airline hours, she often felt nervous on the subway late at night, and never totally figured out her way around her own neighborhood.  

I think that this apartment was a symbol of  the idea of youth idealism in her life. On a lot of levels, we can all relate.