Melody's a delightful perky waitress in Omaha. Brad's a douched up personal trainer type who rides a Vespa.
A lime green Vespa.
Melody's saving her money to help Brad out with his real estate company that he's going to launch after taking the 5 CD training course he ordered online. Melody tells all her friends that Brad's got a "soft side" that no one but her can see.
Brad gives graphic descriptions of Melody's ass to his clients at the gym.
Or, at least, that's how I see this unholy communion playing out. But I could be wrong.
A lot of people have asked me how you identify a Midwestern 'bag.
Midwestern 'Bags are clearly not as douchally refined as the ubersquats from 'bag/hott cesspools like Dallas, Atlanta, Miami and L.A.
The key to pegging a Midwestern 'bag is the hint of confusion and awkwardness that lurks within their attempts to douche it up.
They can't quite get the hand gestures or hat tilt to proper affect. Their Kissy Lips don't quite congeal to proper nauseating expression. And they have yet to master the 'Bag Headbutt into their woman.
But they're trying.
With the full corn fed effort of America's heartland, they're trying.