The last time I spent the night at work was in Russia.
In St. Petersburg, a city built on canals and various branches of a river, the bridges are raised at night so ships can get through. A night in town can come to a sudden halt when someone says, "It's 10 to 2! The bridges are about to go up!" If you're stuck on one side, you're out of luck until the bridge comes down an hour later.
There are ways to get across -- the raisings are staggered throughout the night -- but it's hard to find a car driver who's willing to drive 20 miles out of his way to get you across the one bridge that happens to be down that hour. More specifically, it's hard to afford that kind of a drive. You might as well sit for another hour.
I can't remember why we didn't get out of the office. My co-editor, Garfield, and I were the ones who put the paper together, and when it got late on production night, we had to weigh finishing the paper with beating the bridges. I suppose one night the paper ran late. A friend of ours, Chris, showed up and we went out to a kiosk to buy some snacks and beer. There were two couches in the office. We worked out shifts for the couches -- two of us slept, while one played Microsoft Hearts or Doom throughout the night. I've never spent a drearier night.
I'm packing an overnight bag before I go to work tonight. We got a foot of snow last weekend, and are supposed to get two more in the next 48 hours. Wish me luck.