I was writing one of the new scenes in my novel last night. Heroine and the guy-who's-not-right-for-her are at a band party at his fraternity house. It's loud and she asks to go somewhere quieter. So I had them go to the front porch. The front porch.
Of course after I'd finished writing their conversation, it hit me that I'm a dimwit. A cute girl is at a frat house and asks a frat guy if they can go someplace quiet. And the first place he's going to think of is...? Duh. His room. Have I really been out of college that long?