Public sex is both decadent and depraved, a violation of the social contract, and sometimes as grimy as eating from garbage cans. There's really nothing sensual or romantic about outdoor lewdness. That said, bypass playing-it-safe spots like a park bench secluded by foliage, a dark corner in one of SoBe's clubs, or a golf course at night. Public sex is less about a hidden turn-on than it is about candidly getting off. So if you have the nerve, or lack of scruples, and the desire to take your private affairs public, consider the alley between busy Collins and Washington avenues. Behind the famous dive Club Deuce, just next to a city Dumpster (we're thinking in terms of sordid sights, not just smells), you and a lover, or lovers, can screw each other's "brains" out in full frontal view of passing club kids, tourists, vagrants. Don't be surprised if, after you're done, a pile of dollar bills sits on the ground next to the pants around your ankles (a reminder that the city has relegalized street performances, though the limits gauging obscenity remain unclear). Warning: police patrols? Nah. If cops start rousting people for harmless fun, like safe sex in public, then they should be prepared to explain why their time isn't being devoted to stopping murders, rapes, assaults, robberies, pot smoking. Uh, not pot smoking. Arson. Yeah, arson's what we meant. Got that, occifer?