When I was around 13 years old in the early 90s, the rule was I had to be on a bus BEFORE dark fell or else I'd be in trouble. Well, I missed my last bus and it wasn't for another hour that one would come along. At the time, the Port Authority wasn't a place you "hung out" at and I knew as much. As night fell, the dark side of pre-gentrified NYC, from prostitutes and pimps to crackheads and dealers, came out and I got a little freaked out so I ran to the bathroom hoping to wait out my hour unnoticed. There, I met a transgendered (or transvestite? I was too young to really know anything more than she was likely born a male) prostitute who scolded me for being at the Port Authority so late. I was completely shaken by this and freaked out, as I had no place to go and knew I was in a dangerous spot (back then the only thing that remained open late at the PA was a bar/pool/bowling hall that is still open - but back then it was for drunkards and prostitutes). She pitied me, and stayed with me in the bathroom for the next hour, teaching me makeup tricks and braiding my hair as we "girl talked". When the hour was over she walked me to my bus depot and saw me on the bus, safe and sound.
Anyway, whenever I walk through the mall that is the Port Authority now, I always think about her. Hope she's well. Thanks lady!