Note to Andie: Hang in there — college is better.
For a girl like Andie, there’s no dating someone normal, e.g. a second-stringer on the basketball team who’s in your trig class, or the guy who goes to your school but you only know him because he works with your friend at Chili’s. You’re not a freak (or you’d manage freak boyfriends at least), but you’re weird enough that you’re socially radioactive to the middle strata, you can’t help lift the lowest strata, and the highest strata are too busy being insecure themselves to date someone like you because you might weigh them down. You get:
1) Duckie, who is adorable and adoring but — let’s be honest — really kind of annoying sometimes, and for the next ten years or so, is incapable of moving out of his studio apartment in Friend-Only-Town.
2) Blane, who’s “hot” by the standards of your school, but weak of character and pretty much the Mayor of Doucheburgh. His ability to grow a spine (using some of the Miracle-Gro obtained from this experience with you) is debatable, but clearly these are the best years of his life, and that’s never a good dating prospect.
Go away to college, Andie, far away. It’ll be great — the seeds and stems get shaken out and separated from the buds, and you’ll find lots better pickins. Promise.
This post brought to you courtesy of the fact that HBO still shows the same lineup now that it has been showing for 20 years, and I had several days off of work recently.
*If I had a dollar for every time I wrote that on a folder, book cover, or textbook margin, I would have like a couple hundred dollars probably. Teen suburban white-girl angst, yo.