What Has Your Wrong Window Done for Me Lately?
Don’t Cha Wish Your Wrong Window Was Hot Like Me
They say if you hang out in this spot you can look up and watch people fuck. They fuck in the windows, the show-offs. It’s an accident of two things colliding, this fancy-pants hotel above and this pedestrian park below. It doesn’t matter, the truth of this rumor. What matters is the animation of high-society myths: the notion that the rich fuck differently than you and I, that they’re bored with the ordinary and that they must go to vile lengths to entertain themselves. That a couple, from this distance, is just a blur of rippling skin only adds intrigue to the divide.
Can you build this kind of scummy titillation into a design? I kind of doubt it. I kind of doubt that this hotel straddles this park so that a pixelation of fucks can occur.
But I’m more intrigued by the skateboard-friendly bench-ramps.