Unintentional voyeurism happens all the time in our little beachside community. I can personally attest to an impressively long and varied list of what I consider research and what authority figures consider “voyeurism.” But before you write me off as a Carrie Bradshaw wannabe with binoculars and some extra batteries, let’s play a little game.

Put your right hand up if you’ve walked in on your roommate getting frisky alarmingly close to your pillow. Put your right hand down if you’ve stared openly at a couple giving each other rides on Bill’s Bus. Put your right hand up again if the “Yee-haw!” coming from the reverse cowgirl upstairs doubles as your alarm clock. Shake your hand all about if you’ve walked in on someone getting top-bunked. Now do the hokey-pokey and accept the facts. We are all voyeurs. That’s what it’s all about.

It’s not entirely our fault, you know. This is a one-mile radius town with sexual activity around every corner. With a typical Isla Vista shack’s paper-thin walls, no moan goes unheard. Shoot, I hear, “Harder, better, faster, stronger,” way too often, and I don’t even own any Daft Punk songs. The dorms are even worse. I once slept in Santa Rosa’s study lounge as a gracious gesture to my roommate and her boyfriend, only to be woken up at an ungodly hour to the distinct sound of slurping. Classy stuff. The college lifestyle is not exactly conducive to hours of private, intimate, romantic love-making with rose petals and foreplay. We’re stuck with walking in on a quickie in the bathroom at the ATO house and learning that our roommate listened to every moment of our fabulously rough sexcapade from the adjoining window to the soundtrack of “Ridin’ Dirty.” Face it: By choosing to attend UCSB, we have committed to at least four years as viewers of Isla Vista’s never-ending sex show.

The question remains, however: What do you do when you find yourself skinterrupted? The amateur’s first inclination is to freeze mid-thrust and give a little shriek. But the University of Casual Sex and Beer did not get its nickname for its amateurs. My recommendation would be to smile, wave and continue. There are few things that improve the quality of a free porn show like an appreciative audience. Encore, anyone?

However, if three is too big a crowd for your taste, try leaving a visual cue. My sophomore year playmate wrote “NO” in red crayon on the door in hopes of deterring his rather greasy roommate from walking in on us for the fourth time. In the dorms, my neighbor’s whiteboard offered a subtle warning to passersby: “CAUTION — SEX INSIDE.” As if the Usher blasting from the room wasn’t caution enough. Putting a sign on the door may be a bit obvious, but it’s better to expose your handwriting than your flexibility. My roommates and I, after agreeing that listening to another person have sex through a window does not give them license to sing, “They see me rollin’, they hatin’, patrolling, they tryin’ to catch me ridin’ dirty,” every time we hop on our cruisers, decided to follow the Golden (Scrunchie) Rule. It’s fairly simple: Prior to your NC-17 performance, place the golden scrunchie on the door handle and try to remember that we have walls like Trojan Ecstasy condoms; it’s like nothing’s there. This method will hopefully reduce the incidences of accidental voyeurism in the apartment. Of course, if someone sees the golden scrunchie and proceeds to listen on the other side of the door… well, that’s a different article altogether.