There must be a movie in reporter Andrew Jacobs' NY Times article about what happens when Grand Central is closed for the night and trains to Connecticut and Westchester stop running. An MTA police officer, Stephen Nowicki, who works what is called the "lobster shift" tells Jacobs, "I can't tell you how many times I've seen grown men in tears." So brilliant. There's a whole vernacular for the people who miss trains - "Train wrecks," "Cinderella fares" because they are jackpot to taxi drivers, who make a killing after 1:30AM at Grand Central:

Out on 42nd Street, a mob of cabbies await the luckless souls. They shout "Connecticut, Westchester, upstate," and size up potential gold mines by their shoes and the weaves on their rumpled suit jackets. The fortunate driver can earn $160 for a 90-minute trip to New Haven or $70 for a 40-minute drive to White Plains. All fares must be paid in advance. Raja Shazad, a taxi driver who regularly parks his cab by the terminal's locked doors, explains the arithmetic that draws him night after night, sometimes until 3 a.m. "There are more than eight million people in New York and if everyone misses a train once in his life, there is more than enough business," he says with glee.

You must love the opportunism of taxi drivers, taking advantage of drunken businessmen who have to make it home or else there's some serious explaining to the wife. This sounds like a subject for some photobloggers...

Grand Central after hours also include naked photography and movies.