During an awkwardly long guitar solo on karaoke night
Unless there’s also an air guitar contest happening (and face it, those are stupid), guitar solos are problematic for karaoke singers. Do you just stand there until it’s over? Do you dash off for a quick pee? Do you try and get a shot and hope the bartender notices you before you have to start singing again? Who knows. There’s no real defined etiquette for this situation. What would be awesome is if you could grab your beloved for an intense quickie during the solo in “November Rain,” but that’s probably a health code violation and you’d spend a fortune replacing all the drinks you knocked over.
On top of the Berlin Wall
The Cold War had to end sometime, but one of the hidden tragedies of the fall of Russian communism was that no one could have sex on top of the Berlin Wall anymore. And while the barbed wire and decades of grime were probably uncomfortable, I defy you to think of a sexual act with more socio-political weight behind it. Sadly, that all ended when Ronald Reagan singlehandedly knocked the Wall down with one swing of his giant, luminous freedom boner, or so Tom Clancy tells it.
Inside a Macy’s Thanksgiving parade float
What better way to satisfy your desire for physical comfort and your mild streak of exhibitionism by stuffing your girlfriend’s turkey (or tickling your boyfriend’s giblets) inside a roomy, bouncy Thanksgiving parade float? Assuming you both don’t die of helium poisoning, which you probably would.
The Champagne Room
Yeah, it’d be fun, but Chris Rock told me I couldn’t. He wrote a song, even.
While being shot from a cannon
I really, really doubt there’s a cannon big enough and safe enough to make this work without killing one or both parties involved, but nothing would spice up the bland ol’ missionary position like being airborne.
Inside a lunar module
That’s one deep thrust for man, one giant O for mankind! The cramped conditions inside a lunar module don’t leave much opportunity for foreplay or romance, but if you’re already foamy for each other, parking next to the Sea of Tranquility and fogging up the windows has a certain appeal. Too bad NASA’s not really a thing anymore, since they’re still the only game in town for space travel. Unless you think the moon landings were faked, in which case you’d be on a CIA-controlled film set in rural Nevada somewhere, but that’s not even worth the trip.
On the Tempur-pedic display bed at hhgregg
Speaking of NASA, those crazy space beds they invented are fantastic for sex since they form to your body, or bodies in this case. It’d be like doing it on an orthopedic marshmallow. Too bad they’re crazy expensive, and until we get rid of our Puritanical notions of modesty and related public indecency laws, there’s no way to test one out for free in the store.
In the ball pit at Chuck-E-Cheese
Come on now, there are kids around. It’d be fun, but not worth spending the rest of your life on a federal registry because you “interrupted” some third-grader’s birthday party.
On the bridge of the Starship Enterprise
That’s for captains only. Well, and Riker. And the Reading Rainbow guy, too. But it’s off-limits to the rest of us.
In a padded cell
Pardon the pun, but a room with rubber walls and floor sounds like the best place ever for two young lovers to get crazy in, and that’s not even considering the bondage possibilities of a straitjacket. Pretty sure you have to actually be crazy to get access to a room like that, though, and I’d imagine most mental hospitals are pretty unforgiving when it comes to conjugal visits.