E) One time when Markus was on The Casino throwing money around and mugging down with trannies?
F) Or possibly the lame-ass tantric sex acts Markus learned about in the wine country from a toothless French nag for the price of a glass of really excellent Chardonnay? And how he cried when she wouldn't hold him after?
G) None of the above.
Answer: B, kind of. If you're being honest.
Sadly, no. But also, wonderfully, NO, because it's a disaster of Bay of Pigs proportions. So the class is sitting around wondering what kind of pyramid scheme timeshare bullshit they've let themselves get suckered into, and then Adam stands up in the middle of them, clutching a microphone, and says in the creepiest possible fashion, "SEX AT WORK." Everybody laughs after their heart attacks die down, and he walks to the front of the room to join his teammates.
Carolyn comes in, and the audience cheers at the introductions, and then Adam is very cute about how they're going to talk about "Sex; relationships at work. Something that we're all used to." The people look around like they might get arrested for having seen this tiny boy child say the word "sex" multiple times. Half of the awkwardness of this is vibing off Adam like when your cell phone rings and the TV freaks out: it's psychic feedback you can feel on a visceral level, even through the magic of TiFaux. "But I have to be quite honest, I'm a nice Jewish boy from Atlanta, and I wasn't comfortable with this subject…" They laugh, because...I'm not entirely sure why this is hilarious, but I guess it is, and it's important to say: this gets a laugh. "We're not going to speak [down] to you, this will be an interactive experience. We're going to connect with you." Worried faces! Alla gets a huge laugh with her arch "…not that interactive!" and her timing is excellent. Adam again mentions that he's a "nice Jewish boy from Atlanta" who didn't even know that he was making that obvious double double entendre. See, but I don't think that "nice" or "Jewish" or "boy" or "Atlanta" really imply an ineptitude or naïveté about sex. If he'd said "home-schooled closet case" or "deeply repressed dork cut off from his own body," it might have been clearer. And nearer the point, frankly.
Clay forces everybody -- everybody in the Price Is Right, floral-printed, muu-muu wearing, toupeed, spider-veined, poorly-made-up audience of tourists -- to give a big "Howdy!" and raise their hands if they've ever had a crush on someone in the their office. This, my friends, is a recipe for comedy, but not necessarily for forging a connection with their audience, because the candidates are almost uniformly beautiful, and the last thing I want is to talk about my sexual aspirations with a TV-looking person. Especially with cameras literally everywhere. I can't even handle a hot x-ray technician. The most vociferous respondents are the ones without a chance in hell, and everyone looks kind of horrified. Carolyn does the Connecticut Slow Burn I love so much.