James Weir recaps Married At First Sight 2019 episode 2

“Disgusting” was the word that echoed around this MAFS wedding when the private details of a groom’s sex life were made very public.

Fury erupts at a Married At First Sight wedding on Tuesday night after a drunk best man delivers a humiliating speech that details the groom’s lonely yet enthusiastic experience on a motel room trundle bed beneath a sheet tent.

It’s a hedonistic tale of lust, boyish mistakes and overcoming obstacles. This show is all about the highs and lows.

“Disgusting,” growls the bride’s brother upon hearing the many sordid details. He has a nose ring and neck tattoos so clearly that’s saying something.

The father of the bride — a former boxer — storms up to a producer and issues an aggressive warning. Honestly, it’s as if people just don’t appreciate the art of storytelling anymore.

But before we publicly shame a groom for misdemeanours involving a helpless motel trundle bed, we meet the world’s most intense woman.

Melissa is 37 and is one of those ladies who talks really loudly at restaurants about her failures in life and love because she thinks the people at the surrounding tables will think she’s hilarious and maybe mistake her for Amy Schumer.

Every time she’s asked a basic question, she takes it as an opportunity to roll out some pre-prepared gear that she hopes to one day use at an open mic night.

“Hey, so, tell us a little about yourself,” we politely invite Melissa.

“I HAVEN’T HAD SEX FOR EIGHT YEARS! WHADDYA RECKON?!” she screams before laughing hysterically to mask the tears.

Cool story.

Clearly trolling Melissa, the experts pair her with meditation guru Dino.

“It’s the purpose of my life to spread inner peace and teach meditation,” he whispers to us. It’s the purpose of my life to eat bread and blame my problems on other people, so I can totally relate.

Because Mel's a complete mess, she sleeps in on her wedding day and has to catch a taxi from Sydney to the Hawkesbury River, two hours out of town.

Meanwhile, Dino has arrived early so as to allow enough time for his limo to do slow laps of the wedding location while he meditates inside.

The Dalai Lama also gets around in a limo.

When Melissa’s taxi finally pulls up and she’s rolled down the aisle in a state of panic, she comes face-to-face with the man who is the completely wrong choice for her.

“I’ll start by saying namaste,” Dino says, trying to look into Melissa’s soul but her anxiety prevents her from maintaining eye contact for more than three seconds at a time.

“I bow to the divine in you,” he whispers. Melissa cringes but this isn’t her anxiety, it’s just a normal human reaction to such a statement.

Namastayaway from me.

He decides to go off the cuff and improvise his wedding vows by summoning the energy around him. It’s basically just a whole bunch of yoga words mashed together and it doesn’t make sense.

We quietly fold our body into downward dog and scuttle away.

Up in Byron Bay, another mess is unfolding.

Jessika is an admin officer but is quick to add she also models on the side because it’s all about upskilling.

Mick is a cute farmer who we’ve got a crush on but Jessika’s family don’t feel the same way.

“He’s beneath Jess,” her brother spits. “He’s a country bogan.”

For the purpose of balanced and accurate reporting, I am required to point out that Jessika’s brother has neck tattoos and a nose ring.

Mick feels like an idiot. He can’t believe how mean these people are. They could at least have a bit of dignity and just wait to write critical things about him on the internet, like we do. Some people have no class.

Jess’ family clearly don’t know her as well as they think they do. She wants a regular, nice guy and she’s totally into Mick. If Mick knew what Instagram was, he’d totally slide into her DMs.

When it comes for their wedding photos, they exude intimacy and romance.

It’s like something out of Vogue.

We dash back down to Sydney to check on the lukewarm yoga session and it’s going extremely well.

“I believe it’s a great chemistry,” Dino smiles to us.

“I still don’t know what namaste means,” Melissa tells us in a panic.

Every time Dino tries to talk about spirituality, Melissa has to shove bread rolls in her mouth to buy more time.

Mmm mmm namaphtay mmmmm.

In one last attempt to impress Melissa with his spirituality, he goes way too far.

“I dreamt of a masculine figure at the Himalayan mountains with a snake around my neck. I woke up in tears,” he says, staring into her eyes.

With no more bread left, she’s forced to respond. She doesn’t know what to say. So she speaks from the heart.

“That was too much,” she asserts firmly.

Hanging out with Dino has left us feeling calm and centred. We hate it. We’re dying for a little drama, so we head back to Byron and push Mick’s annoying drunk friend up on stage to give a speech.

There’s many early signs this speech will go wayward. For one thing, the best man’s name is Broxy. He’s one of those oddly-confident best men who secretly thinks he could make a living on the corporate MC circuit, but really everyone just thinks he’s beyond irritating. We watch on excitedly as he pounds every drink in sight before forcibly grabbing the mic.

If you don't enjoy graphic stories about sheet tents and trundle beds, I’d skip past the next few paragraphs.

Woo boy.

“We went up to Airlie Beach for a couple of drinks and we drunk the whole bar dry,” he begins. A nervous energy is felt around the room.

As soon as the location for the tale is revealed, we know it won’t be good. Airlie Beach is a paradise for schoolies and backpackers. One time I was there, some drunk people started having sex in the resort spa and all the other guests in the balconies above started lashing laundry detergent into the bubbling water below.

Mick wasn’t involved in this sex washing machine, but his story is just as humiliating.

“We’re having a good time and Mick says, ‘I’m gonna take some Viagra’,” Broxy continues. “So he’s taken the Viagra as a bit of a gee up. Mick’s raring at everything but nothing’s coming at him. Obviously the Viagra’s worked. And I’m asleep — but I’ve woken up and I can hear some noises. I open me eyes. He’s made himself a bloody tent over himself and he’s having a go. I go, ‘Jesus mate! Bloody hell, how many times you done this?’

“He says, ‘At least five’. So now you know a bit about Mick.”

Broxy is available for keynote addresses at your next corporate event, graduation or private function.

Stunned silence falls across the Byron Bay community hall as we all look at Mick and picture him beneath his sheet tent.

Srsly can’t stop thinking about the sheet tent.

Mick can’t believe Broxy. “You prick,” he whispers with his head in his hands.

Jessika’s family fume. They’re positively repulsed.

“What the f*ck was that? I thought it was disgusting!” her brother spits. “Why would you bring up Viagra? I don’t wanna think about you having sex with my sister.”

Jessika’s dad is also revolted. “F*cking wanker,” he snarls. Based on the anecdote that was just presented, this insult is also factually accurate.

He lumbers right up to a producer and informs them he feels like a fight.

“I’m as a professional boxer. I flew around Australia and punched people in the head. Don’t think I’ll back away from that f*cking sheep farmer,” he yells.

Jessika’s dad probably wouldn’t enjoy my spa story either.

Enough is enough. Jess’ dad and brother decide to take Mick outside.

It’s dark. They corner him against a brick wall. There’s some swearing. Threats are made.

And it all ends with Jess’ dad informing Mick: “I’m a thunderclap!”

We start to giggle because Jess’s dad doesn’t know the UrbanDictionary meaning of the term thunderclap. He shoots us a look and then we go find Broxy.

“At the minute I’ve got mixed feelings,” Jess sighs to us.

And we get it. She has to spend a night with this strange guy and she’s worried about waking up and finding sheet tents all around the hotel room. Who wouldn’t be scared?

But Mick’s a good guy. Out in the cool air, he wraps his suit jacket around her and they sit in front of the bonfire. He tells her about his farm and his dreams of being a dad. Jess forgets all about the Viagra and the tents and the Airlie Beach sex spa. She looks into Mick’s eyes and smiles.

And to that, we thunderclap.

For more observations on trundle beds and the Dalai Lama’s limo, follow me on Twitter and Facebook: @hellojamesweir