I was sitting on the bench outside the bedroom window the other day, having a happy moment looking at the garden and watching the puppy nosing around, when another world intruded.

From inside the house I could clearly hear the start of the Married at First Sight reunion. I’m watching the blue wrens chattering at the birdbath while I’m hearing the bizarre concerns of what seems to be a different species behind me.

It was fascinating. To my shame, I raced inside to watch it, leaving the puppy to ask his questions through the window.

I’ve never watched MAFS. The concept was interesting at first but as the seasons progressed, the lips grew bigger and the word “experiment” wore very thin, and I was glad I never bought in to that particular kind of madness.

The idea of a fake marriage engineered by people whose incomes hang on ratings didn’t have a genuine feel about it. And the people! We don’t see many of those types of people in regional New South Wales. The clothes and make-up budget alone would pay your fuel bill for a year.

I believe there are many of the linen-wearing, frighteningly groomed folk at Byron Bay, where they have made their way up from Sydney and Melbourne to turn it into the same thing they’ve got back home.

Life isn’t lived until you’ve recorded it on social media.

Anyway, my confused daughter asked me why I was watching the MAFS reunion when I hadn’t watched an episode in my life.

The truth was, I couldn’t look away. Jessika with a “k” is absolutely mesmerising. I’m a bit more familiar with the Cyrell personality, but the Martha and Michael phenomenon is also a bit outside my sphere. One can only hope their home-life includes his and hers bathrooms to maintain this odd level of perfection.

I’m all in favour of the pursuit of true love. No doubt some of these people have, like the rest of us, had a bit of a cry in the bathroom when the whole world was a pair except yourself.

There must be many other ways, however, of chasing the dream, other than appearing on a television show where most of the audience are hoping to be appalled by you and all the other contestants are eyeing your hair and make-up.

To me, the MAFS reunion was the perfect way of dodging all the fake wedding stuff and the questionable confessions of love and cutting straight to the chase – watching the beautiful people tear some strips off each other.

Marie Low is a freelance journalist based in Gunnedah, NSW.