The Port Authority Bus Terminal in New York City is a massive transportation hub, comprised of brutalist architecture, homeless people sleeping in the corners, rows of fast-food places, and questionable bathrooms. Classical music is piped through the building's speakers in an attempt to calm its stressed-out commuters, though I've always had my doubts on the efficacy of that practice. It's loud, dirty, messy, and NYC wouldn't be complete without its hulking form on eighth avenue. More than one runaway has washed up there, desperately trying to buy a bus ticket at midnight; myself included.
In the 2000s, there used to be a DDR machine here.
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