Cuffing season is over. Spring is in the air. Pheromones are fully excreting. Don’t look now, but your libido is showing, and it’s unsettling for the general public. Look, I get it. That liberating feeling of putting on your first “Suns Out Guns Out” tank top of the year makes you want to display all your affection to your new beau all over this gorgeous city we call Brooklyn.
But like, stop. We have unspoken rules, people. Rules that should be cherished. Cradled in your arms like a helpless newborn who’s only path to survival is you. Sounds dire? Because it is.
Jeopardizing yourself and your public hook-up pal will only lead to a “social Darwinism” style exile. No, we won’t make you shuffle on ice to your imminent death. But let’s just say this: middle schoolers will be involved, and they are fucking vicious. So buckle up, read the fine print, and you will be safe. Or don’t, and be sacrificed to a throng of youths. Dealers choice.
Read on and inform yourself on the best places to make out if you want the general public to tangibly hate you.
Stairs in front of train entrance
I hate you. We all do. We may not say it out loud, but our scathing, blink-less stares, and our twitchy palms should be the only warning you need. Move! Or someone is about to be pushed. Literally everyone has missed a train because some narcissistic couple deigned these stairs as their lovers lounge. Move to the side, or risk being pushed into a sea of middle schoolers.
Ah, a safe place to smooch. Not. Jeez. Could you be more full of yourself? No one wants to see you play tonsil hockey with your lover. We’re tired. We’re going to work. Leaving work. Commuting between multiple jobs. Some of us have been waiting for an express train for 13 minutes now. It just keeps saying “Delay.” How long is this delay?! It may be selfish of us to ask you to forgo making out for a little while longer, but that’s what makes New York, New York. Brutal honesty at the most inopportune time for our selfish needs.
This one should be a no brainer, but sadly, it’s not. Look, if I can’t check my phone on the train because it’s too fucking crowded then you don’t get to make out. Period. Can you even position your head to the right angle to smooch your boo? I didn’t think so. So stop elbowing me with your god damn elbow as your fruitless attempt to kiss fails yet again. I’m trying to listen to the last episode of “S-Town.” You should look it up, it’s basically a lesson on human empathy. Something you obviously have none of.
You may think an innocent peck on the lips while you share a Unicorn Frap may be okay, but people are trying to get work done. Your shining new love for getting to first base is tackier than the “unicorn dust” sprinkled across this sticky floor. Could you be any more cliché? Take that rom-com shit to Serendipity. You should know your PDA is forbidden in Starbucks. A place where people start their day, get over a hangover, watch porn, refresh their job search page and “revise” their screenplay is a sacred place of enmity. Get your fleeting happiness out immediately.
BAM Movie Theatre
The seats are close. The lights are dim. Her breath smells sweet and minty after popping a few junior mints. It feels like the opportune moment to lean in and kiss your beloved. WRONG. Don’t you get it? You are not the main attraction. BAM brings us art and deep thought at an affordable price. You’re just being tacky, and will most likely end up with a scathing review on our Insta Stories. The ghost of Roger Ebert is disgusted in your lack of tact.
You may think you are the conqueror of Coney Island as you and beau gaze lovingly into each other eyes and play with each other’s zippers on the Wonder Wheel, but just remember, what goes up, must come down. That passenger car above you can see you and where your digits are headed. And it’s probably pre-teens, with cell phones. God damnit, they are everywhere! Why are they so good with the verbal comebacks?
Ew. Just ew. Go live your perfect life up in, C.T. or even better, suburban Jersey. No one needs to be subjected to this kind of “true love.” No matter how pretty the weather is that day. Do you have any common decency? Obviously not, or you wouldn’t be on a goddamn tandem bike. Go read The Bell Jar and have some self-loathing like the rest of us.
You may think you look supes adorable sitting on the same side of the booth, but you look moronic. This isn’t Casablanca. Stick to your side of the table, people. Find a restaurant with very long table cloths and keep everything under the sheets. Catch my drift? If we can’t see what you’re doing, then nothing is happening, yah know? Same goes when you two want to bump up the couple party to the next gear. Private bathrooms are your best friend. But do us all a favor and keep your restaurant romp to non-peak drinking hours. The tables will turn very quickly when you mess with babes that broke the seal during happy hour.
Nope. Nope. Nope. Don’t you even dare. Keep your hands to yourself. Look straight ahead. Nothing else. Sure, it’s dark, it’s crowded, it’s a little sweaty, but no, you are not at an orgy. You are in a drunk tank. Your fellow Lyft share riders just want to go home, eat a dollar slice of pizza and call it a night. Don’t make this trip any longer than it needs to be by playing tonsil hockey with your boo. I have no problem pushing you out of a moving vehicle.
Brooklyn Botanical Gardens
Dude, there are kids around. And not just 3 of them, hordes of preteens. Gaggles of ‘em, filing off school buses to see flowers, and trees, and shit. Oh, wait. They aren’t here on their own accord. This is a forced field trip. They’re only objective: find someone to mock. So, sure, make-out with your beau, if you want to be endlessly mocked by 16 middle schoolers, who all have active Snapchat accounts. The stories only last 24 hours, but the memories of merciless ridicule will last forever. Want to steer clear of the middle school sneers? Holding hands is fine, a peck on the lips, sure, but anything over a G-rating will leave you vulnerable to attack. And no one will be there to help.
But wait! PDA isn’t inherently deplorable behavior, poor etiquette, and fuel for middle schoolers to justifiably mock you online! Here are two spots where nobody cares how freaky you get.
Bodies are glistening. The nut crackers are crackling. Seriously, have at it. Everyone is vibing and having a good time no one’s going to notice the sex-tent you and your boo have concocted out of drift wood and beach towels. Hitch up in the private oasis for you and your lover while your friends go drink on the sand bar before it’s washed away by the currents. No one cares. Because its summer time. And everything is easier to ignore while basking in the sun.
Ah, yes the treasure trove of places to bone, I mean, kiss, in public. Everyone’s just so happy it’s nice out and that we get an afternoon to ignore the 24-hour news cycle that we will basically celebrate our love on the grassy knoll. Frolic down a hill of daisies as you enjoy an afternoon delight, for all we care. If there is outside day-drinking involved how could anyone be mad?! Looks like someone is getting that vitamin D today! Heyo!
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