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Timing is crucial for the late-night food lover: No one wants to be the first at an after-hours party, but waiting in line is a guaranteed buzzkill. Time it just right and you can leave the bar, stroll into Late Nite Pie -- positioned perfectly in Midtown -- and order a Shiner before last call.
The waiters are friendly (ask them about their tattoos) but not exactly the quickest, so it's always good to stick to a simple slice or one of the named pies. We go with the Italian Stallion with sausage, pepperoni, roma tomatoes, garlic and a creamy Italian dip, as well as some garlic sticks. The sticks are truly that; long and thin, but more hard and dense than crispy, these are only advised for those who are too famished to wait for the pizza. The pizza itself is tasty and perfectly respectable, and the light, doughy crust -- it almost tastes like sourdough, but the waitress says no -- tastes great dipped in marinara.
Between two and two-fifteen, the place goes from fairly full to crowded, with young, cute, vaguely preppy twenty-somethings packed in. Tonight, a couple of groups push tables together (to the silent, unspoken horror of the waitresses) and others eventually spill past the run-down pool tables (neither contains a full set of balls) out to the big, eerily quiet patio. Settling away from the busy main room in the video game corner keeps our plastic-cup beers out of sight of the busy staff even though it's past time, until some jealous fratboys point and yell "beer!" After a night of drinking, scarfing down carbs and playing games, we've been caught out like the naughty children we are. We chug what we can and hand over the dregs, and head out into the night to make some more mischief.