Construction continues at Lorelai's house, causing her to continue sleeping on the couch. Upon waking, she and Paul Anka go to the kitchen to "have a little breakfast," which includes enough donuts and Pop-Tarts to feed twenty-five bingeing actresses. Oh, wait, more like twenty-five hungry construction workers: the breakfast is for them. Thank goodness. All the pastries -- much like the ones we often see laid out at The Grandparents' -- were scaring me. Lorelai calls the guys in, encouraging them to get breakfast "while it's hot and nutrient-free." She warns them to inspect the bagels carefully: "Either they're new, or from my baby shower." (Cute, but did Lorelai have a baby shower, really? At age fifteen? This has possibly been covered in past seasons, and I did not see it or do not remember.) She also tells the guys that they've been playing favorites all week with the Pop-Tarts, and now somebody's going to have to be a man and start eating the Shredded Wheat. They groan appropriately. Paul Anka has quietly been sitting in his own chair at the table through all of this, and when one of the guys goes to pet him, Lorelai reminds everyone only to pet the dog with their non-watch hands: "In case you don't remember, watches cause him to freak out, jump up on the counter, and kick my once-working toaster across the room." I love it that Paul Anka is allegedly so crazy off-camera.
Luke comes in with muffins for all, grumbling loudly about having to give out free food to everyone, and he and Lorelai walk outside to overhear T.J. giving a string of nonsensical orders to the construction team. My favorite is when he tells one guy to dig a drain to keep the basement dry. "This house doesn't have a basement," the worker says to Tom, the actual contractor. "It certainly does not," Tom says, going over to Luke and Lorelai to discuss the issues with their fake contractor. Lorelai says they're going to keep the charade up to the bitter end. T.J.'s so cute in his toolbelt, she says, and plus, he polishes his helmet every night with real silver polish. "That's what he thinks silver polish is for," she says. "To polish anything that's silver." Somehow, she finds this adorable, and I get that we're watching TV, but having someone who apparently has the legal faculties of a nine-year-old bang holes in her walls and wreck the joint every single day...well, it's disbelief I cannot suspend. People like this show because it's smarter than a lot of other television, which makes it rather charming. Stupid dumb-asses aren't charming, nor are they in any way "adorable." If Lorelai wants something adorable to destroy her home, perhaps she should adopt a monkey. This T.J. business just isn't funny. This isn't Joey. Also, it's expensive -- Luke says that Lorelai is paying T.J. a regular contractor salary for work he's not doing, and then paying Tom 10% more to do his actual contractor's job, which T.J. thinks he's doing himself, but which Tom is actually doing. "You should hire Blake Edwards as your contractor." Good one, Luke, but don't go trying to apply logic when passive-aggressive subterfuge works just as well (if by "just as well" you mean "not at all"). Why, everyone is enjoying this little ruse! Right? Wrong. Tom says they're not in danger, since although T.J. has horrible instincts, he has absolutely no follow-through. Lorelai is off to take a shower at Babette's, and Luke wants to know why, since her own shower is working. Seems some of the guys -- you know, Pete, Joe, Slim -- saw her naked, due to a T.J. error. Luke is displeased, but Lorelai says that it's no big deal. When she walks away, one of the fellas strolls up to Luke and gives him a congratulatory pat on the back.
“ 'Who knew that behind such a sweet face lurked the soul of a spy?' Emily asks, full of pride. Who knew, also, that behind that same sweet face lurked a boat- stealing, life- ruining, self-esteem- deficient genius surrounded by poor familial role models and in need of a serious ass-kicking? Wait! I knew. ”
A conversation about an upcoming wedding that will be held at the Inn leads Sookie excitedly to ask what date Luke and Lorelai have set for their own wedding. Lorelai says that they haven't chosen one, yet. Sookie says she figured on that, so she had Michel block out all of July for year, since Sookie can totally see Luke and Lorelai having a summer wedding. Really? I see fall. Well, whatever. Lorelai is not amused. She tells Michel to "un-black it out." Michel gets smug with his mug and sing-songs "I told you so" to Sookie, who throws in the towel: "I am so nave. I believed." Lorelai wants to know what they're talking about. Michel explains that he tried to convince Sookie that Lorelai would not be getting married, since a woman who cannot even commit to a purse will have no ability to commit to a partner. Aw, man. The truth hurts. However, Lorelai denies all this, saying that she is getting married; she and Luke just haven't had time to make wedding plans, yet, and by the way, she's had the same purse for over a year. Michel is unmoved. "Of course," he says, full of sarcasm "my mistake. Now, let me go cancel your wedding plans." She keeps up her defense that she and Luke just don't have time to set dates right now, but the other two aren't buying it. They don't have time to continue needling her, however, because apparently Paris is returning to the Inn. Michel is in a panic. "Maybe she left her phone," he says, "or her spell book." Lorelai berates him for being a ridiculous, saying that he has a job to do. "So do you," he says, "and I don't see you running out." Man, good point. Why does Lorelai insist on everyone else handling their business while comfortably remaining passive-aggressive herself? I like Lorelai, but that shit drives me crazy. T.J. is annoying; Paris is annoying; Rory is annoying: let someone else deal with them.
Over at the DAR office, Rory is once again taking charge. On the phone, she assures an applicant, Mrs. Tarkington, that merely finding a musket in an attic does not make you eligible for membership, "even if your Great-Uncle Nate swore on your Aunt Kissy's grave that it was so." Emily comes in during this conversation, and Rory puts poor ol' wannabe Mrs. Tarkington on hold to tell her grandmother all the latest inside information about the insufferable Constance Bedderton. "My own little Valerie Plame," Emily says, hungry for info. Rory says that one of the girls told her that, on a recent outing, Constance stumbled, causing her purse to spill forth the true contents of her Altoid box -- "enough funny-looking pills to fill a pharmacy" -- after which she threw herself to the ground to cover them up. "A cover-up," Emily says, all evil. "That's good! That's what took Nixon down." Emily is excited to have a mole in the office. Rory's plan is to invite Constance to lunch and pump her for info. "Who knew that behind such a sweet face lurked the soul of a spy?" Emily asks, full of pride. Who knew, also, that behind that same sweet face lurked a boat-stealing, life-ruining, self-esteem-deficient genius surrounded by poor familial role models and in need of a serious ass-kicking? Wait! I knew. I like the sneakiness and craftiness displayed by Rory here, but I wish she'd apply it to other pursuits like, say, ferreting out the real reason she's made such a series of stupid moves in the last two seasons.
“ 'I thought Rebecca Thurston's blog was just about all the guys she has sex with and how much she hates her mother,' says Rory. Haaaaa! Wow. Somebody's been paying attention to the internet. ”
During this exchange, Paris calls, glad to get Rory on the phone: "This hard-to-reach thing is getting old." Paris says she's calling because she has to go ahead and put down the security deposit on the place she told Rory about. Rory, frustrated, explains again that she is not coming back to Yale. "Is this about the boat?" Paris asks. Rory is surprised to hear that Paris knows about the boat, but learns that the news is well known -- apparently, Rebecca Thurston wrote about it on her blog. "I thought Rebecca Thurston's blog was just about all the guys she has sex with and how much she hates her mother," says Rory. Haaaaa! Wow. Somebody's been paying attention to the internet. Paris says that is true, but that the boat story came out because the boat Rory and Logan stole belongs to the father of a boy Rebecca Thurston had sex with. "I can't believe I'm in the blogosphere," Rory says. I take a five-minute break to laugh until I cry, never having identified so strongly with a TV character. (Thank God nobody on Deadwood uses the internet...although I sure would like to see what Al Swearengen would put on his blog, naturally to be found at "CocksuckersIKilledToday.livejournal.com.") Paris swears it's true, and tells Rory to "just Google 'Rory Gilmore sex boat'" to find it. Don't bother, young people. It will only lead you back here. Rory gets mad and tries to sling Paris off, telling her to go on and rent the place: "I'm not coming back to Yale." Paris says that Rory's put her in a very precarious position. What if she rents the room to someone who ends up being a rapist or a serial killer? Rory is unsympathetic: she told Paris over two months ago that she was not coming back to school, she says: "And besides, I think Yale is pretty good about screening for rapists and serial killers?" Ugh. How ridiculous and irresponsible. Plenty of rape is committed at Yale -- Google THAT -- just as it is on every other college campus and in every other environment. Paris says fine, but if she ends up on the front page of the newspaper, "BTKed to death," then it's on Rory's hands. Absolutely ridiculous conversation, and a waste of good Paris.
There's a party of sorts going on at Lorelai's. Luke comes in to find her entertaining the construction guys with her Daniel Day-Lewis retrospective. "You should see her rendition of My Left Foot," one of the guys says. Luke is not at all amused: "Yeah, I've seen it. Thanks." But no, Lorelai says, she's switched it up and now does it with her right foot. Totally different! Luke is even less amused to see Paul Anka's new trick. Lorelai: "Pizza!" Paul Anka: "Bark!" Lorelai: "Pizza Pizza!" Paul Anka: "Bark Bark!" Lorelai: "Salad." Paul Anka: "[Total silence.]" It is pretty cute, I must say, but I am a sucker for dogs. When Lorelai goes to the kitchen to get more treats, a petulant Luke reminds her that the guys are there to work, and that Lorelai is not required to give them a USO show. She says she knows; she just wants them to have a good time. I'm sure they are having a good time, actually, since they seem to be there twenty-four hours a day, which must mean she and Luke are paying them double and triple time, or something, for which they'll be willing to watch that dog do any number of tricks. Anyway, as Luke points out, "Half of them have seen you naked. How much more fun can they have?" Tom's in the kitchen, drawing up plans for real work, so Luke pointedly asks whether other clients feed their construction crews pizza and beer to win them over. "Nope," Tom says. "'Course, the 'naked thing' has been done to death." I love Tom. He goes on to ask what they'd like to "do" with the kitchen during all this remodeling, and is met by Lorelai's blank stares as he lists of innumerable options for islands and stools and counter space. "This strange man is scaring me," she says to Luke, who assures Tom that the kitchen is fine.
“ Anything with the band, I'm going to love -- not because they sound great, but because being in a band is so fun, and I just feel like this is something the show got right. The whole quirkiness of them touring Seventh-Day Adventist churches is so silly, it worked. As dumb as it is, I'd totally do the same thing, just to get to perform. ”
Just when we think we're safe, T.J. rolls in from the most recent wild goose chase these people have sent him on: a trip to find the hard-won "Mystic hammer," which he had to drive all day to buy in, of course, Mystic, CT. I love the whole concept of the Mystic hammer and all, and if the scene ended here, I'd be fine. Instead, we all must suffer more tedium in the form of T.J. than I can even recap. For no reason at all, he goes over to the door off the kitchen that leads to Rory's room, and starts going on and on about the unused room and how, if you knocked out that wall, you could make more space. Sensing Lorelai's extreme discomfort, Luke tries to shut T.J. up, but he continues: "You could turn it into a weight room, or a workshop. Or, hey, a pork-smoker room!" Yes, certainly, a pork-smoker room. ["I'd far rather have one of those than a Rory these days." -- Wing Chun] T.J. goes on for several minutes on the benefits of having a pork-smoker room in your house -- his uncle had one; they called it the "dead pig room" (which, okay, is kind of funny). He says he could have it up and running for Lorelai in a week. "All I'd have to do is drive over to Boston to get one of those special sledgehammers Tom was telling me about," he goes on, before Lorelai finally shuts him down, super-annoyed, yelling at him to leave the room alone and stomping out. Seemingly mortified that he has insulted her, T.J. asks Tom, "Is she Jewish, or something?" Siiiiigh. Build me a "dead T.J. room" and we'll talk, Palladinos. ["But, shout-out, of sorts, since Pamie was always as convinced of the Gilmore's Judaism as she was that the Independence Inn was in Hartford, and neither was the case, bless her heart." -- Wing Chun]
In some Adventist rec room somewhere in America, Lane's band Hep Alien rocks the house. (I should mention up front that Todd Lowe, a.k.a. Pamie's friend Todd Lowe, or pfTL, is no relation to me, whatsoever, and though Todd Lowe and I are both friends of Pamie and share the universally esteemed and respected last name of Lowe, we have never met. Which, of course, is a terrible shame, seeing as how he is right now standing on stage with Sebastian Bach, who I cannot help loving.) The band is banging out a cover of Blondie's "Hanging on the Telephone," a great song and a gutsy choice. My husband, who is a drummer, is glad to see that the fabulous Keiko Agena has picked up some really decent drumming skills. I have to say up front that I loooooved this scene. Anything with the band, I'm going to love -- not because they sound great, but because being in a band is so fun, and I just feel like this is something the show got right. The whole quirkiness of them touring Seventh-Day Adventist churches is so silly, it worked. As dumb as it is, I'd totally do the same thing, just to get to perform. They finish the song and thank the crowd, giving shout-outs "first and foremost to Pastor Tim," says pfTL. Gil interrupts to say he got into some very heavy talk with the pastor about his soul and Ecclesiastes and stuff after sound check: "And I gotta say, if Christ comes back, in fulfillment of Prophecy, he's gonna be hooking up with you first, dude, because YOU are AWESOME." pfTL also thanks the decoration committee for making the A.V. room look so cool. Hee. Gil, who gets all the best lines, interrupts again: "I've played the Whiskey before, man, and it's got a similar vibe." pfTL thanks the crowd again for making them feel welcome, encourages them to buy t-shirts, and the group congratulates each other for a tour well done. Brian says that they were as tight as the Foo Fighters. No, Gil says, they were tighter. He justifies it this way: "Listen, if that pretentious little snot from Coldplay can walk around comparing himself to Bono, we can compare ourselves to the Foo Fighters." Yay! Lane smooches pfTL in celebration, and Gil warns her to watch it: Pastor Tim is still hanging. They're starting to break down their stuff when Pastor Tim comes over to remind them that the committee needs to set up for tomorrow's Bible study, and need to use the stage for the giant crucifix. pfTL is glad to see they're selling some t-shirts, which means they'll be able to eat that night.