Nightlife Carries On in Blackout New York From above, Lower Manhattan was cloaked in darkness after Hurricane Sandy. But at street level - in spots - life burned brightly at halal carts, food trucks and candle-lit bars. You just had to know where to look. "You don't come here unless you know it exists," said Linc Rose, who was at 2A, a bar on the corner of Second Avenue and Avenue A that stayed open through the storm. "We'll be open 'til the ice or beer runs out," vowed Jeffrey Emerson, the bartender. You kind of have to learn to bartend all over again, because it's so dark, but everyone is a real sweetheart. Blackout nightlife was largely defined by what was missing: loud music, drunken crowds and people checking their phones. Instead, they talked over warming bottles of beer, kissed, played games. At Niagara, a bar on 7th Street and Avenue A, the brew flowed and a game of UNO was in full swing on Halloween. That night, some Brooklynites biked into Manhattan in solidarity. "You couldn't really see what was open until it was two feet ahead of you," said Miguel Peschiera, 31, who rode in from Greenpoint to go barhopping as part of an alternative parade. Mr. Peschiera, a paralegal by day, wore a cow costume; the large, curving horns on his head had battery powered speakers and loops of turquoise LED lights. "We decided to have a light-themed parade," he said. There was some discussion about whether that was insensitive. The decision was that it was like carnival after Katrina. It was cathartic, a sign that life goes on. But for most people living in blacked-out Manhattan, going out was simply a relief. James Rockett, a 27-year-old accountant, was starting his second beer at d.b.a., a bar on First Avenue between Second and Third Street. "Basically," he said, "It beats going home and sitting in darkness by myself."