Not that I would know.
1. The Post Office. It’s open 24/7, no elderly Gambier citizens venture in there after 4:00 p.m., and the different bays of boxes are like individual hotel rooms all in a row! There might even be room service available if your boxmate’s mom thought to send a well-timed care package.
2. Those weird rectangular recesses in the wall at random points on the third floor of the library. Perfectly sized for fetal position weeping and sucking face! If another patron of Club Olin dares disturb you in your time of need, just pretend to be searching the stacks desperately for modern Icelandic juvenile literature. (And good luck with that.)
3. The Peirce elevator. If you’re willing to throw down some dough later on to invest in green technology and make up for all the energy you’ll be wasting, ride up and down in this puppy complete with mood lighting for as long as it takes to get all your sorrow/saliva out. Just don’t accidentally lean on the emergency call button if you are unwilling to be met by the two-timing/jilted volunteer firefighter who is the cause of all your current troubles/trysts.
4. The fake-out alcoves. These are the strangely elongated spaces to the left of some basement stairs that make you falter momentarily when you reach the bottom, unsure of which direction the actual basement is in.* Seriously—strangely elongated. You could bring your entire comps study group in with you to bemoan the approaching test! Or just to moan. You know, whichever.**
5. The greenhouse. It’s supposed to be hot and steamy in there, so whatever perspiration results from your romantic liaison or existential sobbing will just add to the botanical ambience. Plus you’re totally safe from prying eyes even behind all that glass, because who walks by a building full of plants and decides to peer through the window?
*There is one of these in at least two of the academic buildings built recently (and the “severe weather shelter area” in Peirce may also count), implying that Graham Gund really wants us to be good at campus-wide hide-and-seek. Or maybe just that he giggles each time we are tricked by his blueprints.
**Actually, no. Do not have polyamorous necking sessions in the storage niche of Finn House. John Crowe Ransom’s spirit animal is watching.