Welcome to Nighthawks — a biweekly series where writer Sam Brule travels to noteworthy nightlife epicenters across New York City to observe and report about the night, atmosphere, and people of the weekend. Tonight, we’re joining the thousands of people in Times Square to figure out what the constant commotion is really about.
In all of the great tourist destinations, there is a main attraction that people come from all over to see. At the Louvre, it’s the miles and miles of historic art. St. Peter’s Square has the Basilica. Even nearby Central Park offers a beautiful open space among the chaos of the big city. But what does Times Square have to offer? Is it really just advertisements?
At 10 p.m. on an early fall night, Times Square was chilly yet restlessly extravagant, as always. The air was thick and felt used by the clamoring of nameless thousands coming to see the famed in-your-face advertisements. The hoards of people felt almost suffocating, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to see this space empty — something that likely hasn’t occurred since its inception.
The excitement started immediately as I got off the R train. My quick walk towards the epicenter of Times Square was fruitful as I overheard a multitude of conversations. A group of boys exploded into celebratory cheers of joy near me as one of them showed off his recent Hinge matches. However, as we arrived, I soon lost them in the hoards of people bathed in billboard light.
The buildings soared high above the ground. They assumed the role of almost otherworldly structures compared to the action happening below them. Besides the occasional light left on in a room, the skyscrapers eased into mere silhouettes in contrast to the light of Times Square. A light so excruciating that each and every billboard strained my eyes as my brain tried to reckon with it all.
Times Square smelt surprisingly sweet. Scents from the scattered food trucks caught the wind and blew around me. I caught myself picking up hints of freshly prepared pretzels, churros, and other sweet treats. Occasionally, I’d wander into a patch of something that smelt less than pleasant, but it was quickly covered by the familiar sweetness in a way that almost felt purposeful.
I was first caught by a large group of adults dressed as Disney characters. Lightly spread out over the length of a block, I watched them aggressively pose for pictures with young children. People dressed as Elsa and Anna, Elmo, and Batman crouched down, hugging the kids with a practiced professionalism that’s only seen in A-list celebrities. Upon the occasional success of getting a picture taken, the characters would then hound the poor fool who took it to cough up some money.
I witnessed a middle-aged gentleman wearing a fanny pack who didn’t want to pay them. “I’m not paying you!” he said, getting increasingly angry. He planted his Skechers, the ones designed for extra support, firmly into the ground and he wouldn’t budge, so they called in reinforcements to get the money. Next thing you know, Spider-Man and Hulk had lifted their masks to reveal their sobering real identities, which turned out to be exhausted and angry faces. The man quickly paid and left without further commotion. The few to get caught in this trap were quite unlucky, but considering the sea of tourists, it was bound to happen.
Across the street and outside the McDonald’s on Broadway, sat a large group of teenagers speaking German to each other. A boy with a fresh crew cut and an outfit made up of entirely Nike items posed with his hamburger in one hand and a thumbs-up gesture in the other. He smiled wide amid a backdrop of vibrant LED screens. He was making a girl from his group take a picture, maybe to send back home as a sort of virtual postcard.
As I sat, surrounded by nothing but people, noise, light, and more people, I began to wonder: What would Times Square feel like if it was completely empty? These people are all here to witness the beautiful scene of bright pixelated advertisements flooding their field of view, but how would those advertisements appear if there was no one here?
In any of the other great tourist destinations, it would be wonderful to be the only person there. Imagine walking the Louvre all alone, with nobody between you and the art. Imagine the peace as you take in the hard work of skilled artists from years past.
But Times Square wouldn’t be a great place to be alone. It would feel hollow. The hum of the giant advertising walls would try to call out to its usual audience, but it would fall on deaf ears, and the charade of it all would be lost. The advertisements rely on the people who see them; without them, it wouldn’t make sense.
There wouldn’t be unlucky tourists getting swindled by Disney characters. No boys showing off their Hinge matches. No German teenagers posing with their American McDonald’s. Not a sign of life all around.
That’s when it struck. People don’t just come to Times Square to be sold products from towering billboards. They come to be surrounded by the people of the world. They come to take in the reflected glory of being a person and become a part of the bigger picture of life.
Sure there are wonders of the world that don’t rely on the presence of people. But Times Square isn’t one of them. In Times Square, the people become the attraction.
Wielding my newfound insight, I found myself enjoying the crowded evening. Toward the center of the main area stood two people, a man and a woman. They sat on two chairs pushed next to each other to form a makeshift bench. The woman rested on the shoulder of the man, holding his hand. Bags grew from under his eyes as he looked at something on his phone.
They didn’t seem to care that they were in “the greatest city in the world” or about much at all. But they did seem happy. Resting between them, their hands were clasped together, interlaced at the fingers, while they donned a slight grin on each of their faces.
At that point, I shut my notebook and made my way toward the train home. On the way back, I got mixed with similar groups I saw on my way there, only much quieter this time.
I realized that there is a shared attitude amongst those who live in NYC to avoid Times Square at all costs, myself included. It can be suffocating, overly sensational, and aggressively corporate. But living in New York, you see bits of that everywhere. Being constantly surrounded by these things makes you not want to see them anymore. But for those who don’t see that every day, it’s truly a remarkable sight.