How Lloyd Dobler Ruined My College Lovelife
Ah, John Cusack. Or, to be more specific: Lloyd Dobler. Some young male dude I know was carrying on one morning in the office at school about how the mere worldly existence of Say Anything has destroyed the prospect of any real guy ever being, I think the words were, “respected by a woman.” That, darn that Lloyd Dobler; he’s set the bar too high! I laughed off the guy’s assertion as simplistic blabbermouthiness.
Sure, no high school guy’s ever gonna meet that precise balance of articulate sensitivity mixed with charming funniness, right? Hell, and really, few 20-40 year olds are gonna make that grade, either.

But. It's. A. Movie.

In real life, if some fella you’d just broken up with snuck onto your property in the wee hours and blasted freaking Peter Gabriel, might you be just a tad spooked? Instead of tossing and turning in bed while looking all lovely and pained like Ione Skye, you might call the damn authorities.

So, pah on that. I’m a smart human being, I thought. I can distinguish reality from the damn movies, I thought. And I would never choose some fiction over a real live boy, I thought, and then-

And then I remembered: Once, long ago, Lloyd Dobler already messed with my lovelife. Or my opportunity for one, and yes, it was almost in the exact manner that my colleague was complaining about. Almost.

Flashback to a 19-year-old Alice. It is fall. She is in college. She is young; she still thinks herself gawky. She is a good student; she considers herself to be an introvert. She is a bloomer of the late variety.

She has moved into this International House sort of dorm. It is here that she meets this older lad. This Canadian. Now, she’s had a few romantic interactions here and there, but the emphasis, dear Henshaw, belongs firmly, at this point in her life, on “few.” But she arrives at the dorm, and almost immediately, this young man begins flirting with her. He jokes. He is witty. He is really cute. He is quite possibly an alcoholic. But, he flirts. And she, why, she doesn’t know what to do! She is flustered. She runs and hides. What should she do?? Then she decides. She will like him back. Why, she does like him back!

There’s a party and they’re both there. They drink champagne. They dance together a lot. Henshaw? They slow dance, and although she can’t remember the song now, in her recollections, it is always, always “Forever Young,” by Alphaville.
She’s totally swooning and all her friends are smirking at her out of the corners of their eyes. “Young Alice,” they call her, and they shake their heads.
Alice and Canada Lad go back to the dorm. They’re holding hands. Her mind is racing, filled with Fight or Flight freakoutedness. She wants to kiss him! Augh! What if he kisses her? She is sure she will die.

When they reach their hall, they drop hands and just then, a fellow hallmate, a girl named Jenny or Tiffany or something, rushes up.
“Hey, you two! We’re all watching Say Anything in Kara’s room! Wanna come?” Lad says nothing. He looks up at the ceiling. And Young Alice, in whom Fight or Flight is still raring hard, hears these words come out of her mouth,
“Sure! Yes! I love that movie! Wanna come watch it?” She turns to Canada Lad. He shakes his head. Naw. He’s just gonna go back to his room.
And so that’s what happened.
And Young Alice never kissed him. Instead, she chose the comfort of watching Lloyd Dobler get, lose, then get back Diane Court, for the dozenth time.
Damn you, Lloyd Dobler. Damn you to hell.