We work in Hell's Kitchen. We go in at 7pm and we leave between 3 and 4am.
At first, we were catatonic at the end of our shift. Anna used to sing inspirational songs quietly to herself on the cab ride home, while Anita argued with the driver about the best route.
We were adjusting.
After a few weeks, we started taking advantage of it.
3:20am The Irish Rogue: a dark, beer-stained bar in Hell's Kitchen whose main selling point is that it's still open. And they have plush leather seats in the front.
Seth, the assistant editor. He's from Ohio. This was the night his car was towed.
He told us there were three wigs in the trunk.
This is the Irish bartender, Dunkan. He has a ridiculous brogue.
Actually his name is Shane. We were drunk and forgot but he told us on a subsequent night at the Irish Rogue. He also sang along to two Journey songs with a lot of gusto.
Rubi, the bar back, cleaning up after last call. He was camera-shy. Why the gloves?
And this is the middle-aged couple that fucked in the bathroom just before closing. Click on the photo to see it better.