At East Coast Colleges the inherent attitude of tweedy scholarly-ness (scholarhood?) and commonplace sexual hang-ups stemming from over wrought and over-analysed Freudian Neuroses mean that public sex is a hidden, clandestine affair. Hedonistic affairs happen in the Library Stacks — in light-less coves, amid musty books that were last checked out in the 60s.
With the West Coast’s deeply ingrained ethos of manifest destiny (wherein everything is yours for the taking) and commonplace social exhibitionism it makes sense that the campus bone-zone is located on the rooftop of some tall building.
There’s actually something bluntly poetic about this peeping tom’s-eye view of a couple stunt-fucking atop USC’s Waite Phillips Hall.
