Weather permitting you could always find a bookseller during crazy New York hours.

"HELLO! HELLO!" 

The homeless bookseller was sitting on an office chair sleeping and covered with a blanket.  

"How much for this book?" I asked. 

"Pay what you want." He said. 

The man was selling: books, CD's, DVD's, shoes, clothes, furniture, and I kid you not--he even had a sink for sale. The book that I paid a buck for is, My Brother's Keeper, by Stanislaus Joyce. I walked by the next day, around the same time 2:AM. He wasn't around, but all his stuff was. It had rained all day. All his books were destroyed--except the sink.