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Lorelai and Christopher have been happily dating for the last six weeks. Lorelai. And CHRISTOPHER. And, for Rory, it's awk...ward. Not as awkward (read: hated) as it is for me! The only one who seems to be on my side is Sookie, who reminds Lorelai that she just broke up with Luke and that this whole Chris thing is dangerous. And that Chris is a dick. Seriously, if David Sutcliffe and Lauren Graham could stop making out for FIVE SECONDS, I would appreciate that. Chris takes Lorelai on a fantastic date in a convertible to watch Funny Face on the side of a barn and yada yada yada, I'm mad. She finally admits that she maybe doesn't trust the new relationship yet and needs to wait before taking a big leap of commitment. Luke, also annoying the crap out of me, seems perfectly happy in his new life as well, especially because April is coming to live with him for a while. He's thrilled, you know, because it gives him a chance to be twice as curmudgeonly as he panics nonstop over the various dangers of caring for a young person. April is still cute, but I still wish she didn't exist, especially because she is trying to set Luke up with all her teachers. Summer is over, and Rory has gone back to school. She's all sad in the swanky apartment by herself, but gets right back in the swing of things at the paper. She meets some wacky new friends on an assignment at an art show. They are super-annoying. On the G-Unit front, Richard is asked to be a guest lecturer at Yale, and Emily is pulled over and arrested! To her extreme delight, Lorelai gets to be the one to pick Emily up from the hoosegow. She's so happy about that, she decides to throw caution to the wind and spend the night with mister s'wonderful. Boo. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Lorelai and Chris are arriving back at her house after what appears to be (although it pains me to say it) a date. They have gone to see that cinematic masterpiece, Snakes On A Plane. "Let me bottom line it for you," Lorelai says. "Snakes are gross. Snakes are scary and slithery, and do you know where snakes do not belong?" Chris guesses rightly that they do not belong on a plane. "With their gross, no-legged bodies and their scaly, scaly skin..." Lorelai shivers. Chris points out that while he does respect her obvious hatred of snakes, they did have fair warning about what they were going to see. "No!" Lorelai insists. "A movie should not be just its title! Driving Miss Daisy didn't all take place in the car. Dances With Wolves wasn't just one long wolf dance!" She does not appreciate that this film was, in fact, nothing but relentless snakes on the aforementioned plane. I'd like to make a joke about the film, but I didn't see it, so I'll just say that Lorelai's hatred of snakes obviously does not extend to having them on her porch. "This was our fifth bad movie in a row," Christopher says, "it's got to be some kind of record." Lorelai says that clearly, movies have gotten to be really bad. Chris wonders whether it's their fault, that though the films were all different, they were all bad and had but one thing in common. "They were all seen by us!" Lorelai gasps. "Wow! We can never see Casablanca together. I mean, I'm sorry, I don't care how much I love it, I cannot be responsible for ruining Casablanca." Oh, isn't this just all so awfully cute? Is Lauren Graham trying to kill me? The answer is yes, because this soon develops into them joking about how to divide up the movie candy and then they're kissing and I knock myself in the head with the remote and pass out for a second. They have an awkward conversation about whether or not she's ready for him to spend the night â she's not â and they say an awkwardly passionate goodnight.
Lorelai enters her house looking for all the world like a sexed up teenager where she is met by the product of her union with that very guy she was just smooching, Rory. Speaking of awkward, no one is feeling the weirdness more than Rory, and can you blame her? Exactly how many times has this situation ever occurred in real life? Surely we would have seen the headlines by now: "Child Made Legit Twenty-One Years Later!" Uncomfortably, Rory jokes that Lorelai just made it in under curfew. "Is it weird that he didn't come in?" Lorelai asks. "Oh...I saw the guy two days ago, I'm sick of him," Rory pshaws. She says, though, that Chris could come in if he wanted to, and she could make herself scarce. Lorelai says she wouldn't have to do that and they both kind of giggle nervously. "I forget what the protocol is," Rory says, "when your mom is dating your dad." She says that she really doesn't think it would be weird for Chris to stay over, if that's what Lorelai wants. Her mom says that she doesn't know if that's what she wants, but that, maybe, yes, no, maybe she wants it, she doesn't know. They break the tension by sharing some Twizzlers, and Lorelai assures Rory that things are going well between her and Chris. "But, Mom," Rory says, tentative, "I'm really glad things are good between you, but...I just want you to be careful." Lorelai gives her a look. "Is this the safe sex talk?" she asks, as Rory covers her face in embarrassment. Rory says that she just wants her to be careful not to get hurt again. "I am," Lorelai says. "I am being careful."
Luke serves a customer a fine diner breakfast of eggs, toast, and bacon and is distracted by Kirk, who moans wistfully at the sight of the food. He tells Luke that he has women troubles. His mother and Lulu have been battling it out for his affections, using cherry cobbler as a weapon. I, myself, am having Kirk troubles, because...well, he's on the screen. Also, Luke's new hat is RIDICULOUS. Too large, too...hatty, I don't know. It's not adjustable, so it's just sitting on his head like a cone, pushed down over his ears. Anyway, Luke is not sympathetic to Kirk's first-world problem of too much cobbler. Kirk can't even decide what to order at Luke's, because he knows his mom and Lulu would disagree on his choice. "Lulu would want me to get something hip, like a bagel," he says. Luke is incredulous: "Hip?" Kirk's mom, though, would want him to get something more substantial like pancakes. Finally, all is solved when Luke's handy kitchen assistant, Not Lane's Dad, appears and delivers an egg bagel. I immediately regret turning my nose up at Kirk when Anna arrives. Apparently, April is going to be staying with Luke while Anna goes out of town to take care of her mother. School starts tomorrow, and Anna gives him the run down of all necessary numbers and waivers and school stuff he needs to be aware of. "And," she warns, "she'll tell you she needs to be there by 7:30, but she really doesn't need to be there 'til eight." Right, right, because someone found a page from a discarded script in a trash can and scratched out "Rory's First Day at Chilton" and wrote in "Luke's Secret Daughter Goes to School." I know I've mentioned it before, but it bugs me. Why does April have to be just like Rory and Anna just like Lorelai? Is this going to pay off at any point? Like, someone is going to mention it, right? Because it's too obvious, otherwise, and it's offensive if they think we're not noticing.
Lorelai arrives at work to be greeted by a kitchen full of gourds! Gourds of all shapes and sizes! I love gourds. Last year, AB Chao made a centerpiece of gourds covered in glitter! GLITTER! And I have been waiting all year to copy her. Except, check it, I'm going to use bigger gourds. Way bigger. Like, state-fair-championship-pumpkin-sized gourds that have to be lifted by a crane and dipped into a bathtub of glue to then be dragged through a glitter MOUNTAIN. Sookie says that Jackson's squash crop went crazy this summer and they have tons of gourds to be put into soups (and covered in glitter)! She tries to make Lorelai taste her (most likely delicious) gourd soup, but Lorelai refuses. "It's so good, and sweet and rich," Sookie promises. "It's like pie, only it's soup! It's like pie soup!" Sign me up for that, but Lorelai still says no. "I don't eat orange food except for candy corn," she says. Sookie points out that she eats Cheetos. "I don't eat food that's naturally orange," Lorelai says. Sookie: "You eat oranges." Lorelai finally says that she just doesn't eat gourds, and Sookie gives up.
Lorelai asks what else is going on at the Sookie/Jackson house, and Sookie delightedly tells her that Martha is really close to walking. She invites Lorelai to come over the night for dinner. "Maybe you'll see the inaugural steps!" she says. Lorelai smiles, and says that she'd love to, but...Sookie gets it immediately. "Buuut," she sing-songs with irritation, "you wanna wait to see if Christopher calls and asks you out first, and then if he doesn't, you'll come over." Mean, but she's right, and Lorelai doesn't bother attempting to deny it. Sookie continues in the teasing sing-song. "Because you can 'just date' the father of your child," she says. Lorelai says that yes, it turns out you can, and that it's been a fun six weeks. "We're taking it slowly," she says, "just getting to know each other again." Sookie points out that they've known each other for more than thirty years. Lorelai has had enough of this line of interrogation and lightly tells Sookie to get off her back. Sookie says it's just that the whole breakup with Luke wasn't all that long ago. "I know," Lorelai says, "I remember. I was there." Sookie feels bad, now, for coming down on her, and says it's just that she knows when a big breakup happens, it's natural to have a rebound thing. "You know, a big, bouncy rubber ball of a rebound thing," she says, "it's good." But, she goes on, a rebound is like a twenty-eight year old surfer, or a jazz saxophonist who drives a VW bus. "It's not the father of your only child," she says. "Christopher is not your rubber ball! He's a big, heavy bowling ball!" Lorelai says she'll tell Chris she said that, and immediately has the chance when, much to Sookie's obvious chagrin, Lorelai's phone rings with a call from the bowling ball. Sookie makes the Face of Ugh we're all feeling.
Chris asks if Lorelai's available for the night. "Well, I don't know," she says, all happy, "is there some reason you're checking my availability?" Sookie hears this and starts banging pots and pans around as a distraction while Chris goes on and on that he's got a fun date planned -- "Snakes on a boat?!" Lorelai asks -- and says he'll pick her up at 6. "Okay," Lorelai trills, "I'll be there at 6 to be picked up!" At this, Sookie slices a vicious gourd slice, most likely dreaming that it's Chris's head.
Back at Logan's fancy apartment, Rory is unpacking her rocket (heeee!) and looks around all morose. She makes it about .005 seconds before taking out her phone and calling him. When she does not get an answer, she leaves him an embarrassing co-dependent message and frumps down on the bed. When the phone immediately rings, she assumes it's him calling her back, but in fact it is Grandpa. He has interesting news. As Emily rifles through his entire wardrobe in the background, he tells her that his old friend and former fellow Whiffenpoof, the dean of undergrad education, has invited him to be a visiting economics lecturer at Yale this semester. He is, he tells her, very excited. Rory congratulates him and suggests that they have dinner to celebrate after his first class on Thursday, but Richard says he's already promised himself to the dean. This news surprises Emily, who had planned for them to dine with the Sudberrys. She makes the incomparable personal sacrifice of agreeing to have dinner with them, alone. "Oh," she cries, "the life of a faculty widow." Have I mentioned my husband is preparing to become a college professor? I am hoping being a faculty widow comes with more perks than the life of a grad student widow. Surely, the beer will be better.
Back at the diner, Luke is going over April's school stuff. He is alarmed to read on the exclusions list that students are not allowed to bring razor blades to school. "Are kids showing up to school with razor blades?" he says, worried. He freaks that the school has had to go so far as to ban drug use, theft, spitting, fighting, gouging and biting. "Seems like they're giving the kids ideas," he says. "'Gee, I can't think of any other bad things to do today, let me look at the manual. Hey! Gouging sounds fun!'" From her regular table, Miss Patty pipes up that no one at April's school is doing any gouging. "Well, sure, why bother with that," Luke snarks, "when they've got access to guns, tasers, knives, and nunchucks?" Kirks acknowledges that nunchucks are cool and "deadly." Cesar emerges from the kitchen, saying that this is all ridiculous -- no one is bringing nunchucks to April's school. "They're way too bulky to fit in your sock," he says, "Now, mace on the other hand...." Miss Patty, who looks to have lost a bit of weight (you go girl!) has to get up to intervene. She assures Luke that all these precautions from the school are just part of their liability coverage, and that nothing is going to happen to April. She says she has to take similar legal measures with her dance school. Luke is temporarily assuaged, until she says that nothing bad has ever happened except that one time, when one of her dancers pulled a Tonya Harding on another girl and broke her leg in three places. Oops. "That is not 'nothing,'" Luke says. "That is the opposite of nothing!" It's also the opposite of funny, damn. Are you old enough, internet, to remember the Tonya Harding scandal? Believe me, it went a long way in confirming that old adage, "Bitches is crazy."
Miss Patty again tells Luke not to worry, because she's talking about a much rougher crowd. "Rougher crowd?" he plotzes. "They're ballerinas!" Miss Patty rolls her eyes. "Oh, yeah, I know," she chides. "Everyone thinks, 'Ballerinas; so sweet, so fragile!'" Trust me, they're dancing on stress fractures and in-grown toenails and they haven't eaten in weeks!" Hee. They are interrupted by the arrival of Anna and April, who have arrived with all April's stuff, plus April's avocado pit science experiment which they had to return home to get half way to Luke's. "We had to make a pit stop!" April jokes, and everyone laughs and pretends it's not something Rory might have said.
Upstairs, Luke shows April around the place, even though he's just said she's seen it before. She can't help but point out that the place is a little...brown. "You know, this place is kind of depressing, isn't it?" Luke says. April cackles, confirming that yes, it is. "Sorry if that hurt your feelings," she says. "Mom says bluntness isn't my most attractive quality." Yes, a little less Asperger's might be good coming from you, Fake Rory. Instead of giving her a lesson on manners, Luke says they can go to the store later and get some lamps or whatever, and April suggests hitting Tar-jay. "Sounds kind of fancy," Luke says. She laughs again, telling him that's just how they say "Target." Luke, who apparently spends all his spare time in a cave, has never heard of the great red bullseye in the sky, and says that he's never been. They make plans to go the night, and April happily adjusts her avocado pit in the sunlight of the window sill while Luke pauses in the doorway to gaze meaningfully and fatherly at his Fake Rory.
Rory is back in the swing at the Yale paper, and is congratulating her staff on locking down the first issue of the year. Paris takes this opportunity to mention her time spent watching Doyle work as a fact checker during the summer at The Hartford Current, the work of which made the Yale Daily News look like a joke. The staff shifts uncomfortably as Rory asks what Paris's point may be. "Oh, I thought I was clear," Paris says. "Compared to the Current, this place is a joke." Rory rightfully ignores her and hands out assignments to the rest of the group. One of the staff members has to fully disclose that he once had "a thing" with one of the artists he's assigned to cover for an art show piece, so Rory volunteers to go in his place. She asks Paris if she would like to accompany her, but Paris must decline, citing her plans to accompany Doyle to a Current happy hour. "We're like the Efron and Bernstein of the group," she says, adding that if Rory's desperate for someone to take the art thing, she should force Bill to go with her. No doubt wanting to avoid hanging out with Bill and his distinct Gilbert and Sullivan haircut, Rory says that she's not desperate. Paris tries to get her to admit that she is, but Rory insists that she isn't. "Go to your party, Paris," Rory says. "Be the couple whose divorce was so painful it was memorialized in both literature and film."
By the way, if you'll allow me a brief aside: I am working on this recap once again from a alternate location. Alternate, meaning, not on my couch -- I am at a coffee shop, where I am having to repeatedly turn up the volume on my headphones because of the EXTREMELY LOUD French being spoken to me. Now, I live in darkest, remotest Georgia, okay, where most of my neighbors have either "the South will rise again" or "CRUNK" bumper stickers on their back windshields. Thus, one does not often hear people exchanging small talk en français. The best part? This is a direct, translated quote: "So, we went last night with John to Gladys Knight's and had some fried chicken. I bought some t-shirts." I know I got it right because "Gladys Knight," "fried chicken," and "t-shirts" were all in English. Brilliant.
Back at the crap shack, Lorelai jogs down the stairs to open the door to a leather-jacket clad Christopher, who has arrived to take her on their mystery date. He kisses her in a very familiar way that makes me mad. She complains that he looks great, which is easy to do when you know where you're going, which she does not. I complain because, in their zeal to straighten her hair, it looks like they ironed it with an actual iron, and left her laying across the board too long, thus burning the ends. It's hard to make this woman's hair look bad, and yet.... In any case, she looks beautiful in her black dress which she points out can be converted from formal elegance to casual fun-times wear. They engage in a lot of cute chat, and I'd recap it, but you know...it sucks. He refuses to give her any hints about the date and finally, after much badgering on her part, escorts her outside where a gorgeous old red Mustang convertible awaits. She is, of course, charmed. "Are you taking me on a car chase through the streets of San Francisco?" she asks, but he says the car is only part of the mystery date, and opens her door. "Hmm. You're being a gentleman," she says. "Is that the special thing?" He reminds her that he always opens her door (no kidding) and she lists off a bunch of other silly stuff that could possibly be the special thing. "Take a good long look at my hair, now," she says, noting that the top is down, "because it's not going to look like this for the rest of the night." Now, that would be a special thing. Laughing, Chris tells her to buckle her seatbelt. "Buckling my seatbelt?" she says, "Is THAT the special thing?" He rolls his eyes. "Yep, that's it," he says. "You're all buckled up; date's over." Unfortunately, he's joking.
OH MY GOD. The French guys are killing me. I can only understand about half of what they're saying, but it's so awesome and has repeatedly included the words "fried chicken."
Luke and April have taken their much-anticipated trip to Target, and Luke is marveling over their spoils as if he's never been shopping or bought anything in his life. He seems particularly proud of April's choices of items in cerulean blue. "I'm really into cerulean," she says. Luke cutely says that he can see why. April says that she went through a phase where everything had to be olive, but that she woke up one day realizing she hated it. Luke says that he's really glad they shopped, because it was fun and the place looks great. "And," April says, cutting her eyes sideways, "now, anytime you want, you could have a nice dinner on this table." She says he could put flowers in his new vase and light his new candles. Luke suggests they try it all out that night for dinner. "Yeah," she says. "OR, you could do it when you have a...a lady over." Luke: "Oh..." April ramps up the pressure, but he deflects, saying she should get to her homework. "Actually," she reminds him, "they don't give homework on the first day of school." She says that one teacher threatened homework, but that it ended up being just a direction for students to cover their books. "I mean," she concludes, "how lame is that?" Luke agrees that it's very lame and as she goes to get some grocery bags to cover her books (aw, I did exactly the same thing) and Luke gives her yet another lingering, fatherly glance.
Finally, after apparently driving over hill and dale, Chris and Lorelai arrive at their date location...the side of a barn that looks like the scene of many, many chainsaw murders. "Are we at Woodstock?" Lorelai asks. "I think we're late." Suddenly, from behind them, a projector starts up, and Funny Face starts up. "I love this movie," Lorelai says, completely overwhelmed and stunned. She smiles at him over and over while he pulls out movie candy and drinks and says it's about time they saw a movie they couldn't complain about.
Richard is packing up his professorial briefcase and talking to Emily as she drives home from her dinner with the Sudberrys. He says his class went all right, but that he was alarmed by the boys in undershirts and baseball caps and the girls in pajamas in flip-flops who attended his course. I love Richard and Emily...when they are talking to each other. They chat about the Sudberrys and how boring they are and say goodbye so he can go to his dinner with the dean.
As she hangs up, Emily is surprised to hear sirens and see police lights behind her. When the officer approaches, she ostentatiously inquires why he stopped her. When he says he pulled her over because he saw her talking on cell phone, which is illegal while driving in Connecticut, she gets even more haughty. "If I can manage to drink a cup of hot coffee and drive," she snits, "I can talk on a cell phone, or is coffee illegal, too?" He declines to point out that you don't have to dial or speak to a cup of coffee, and she continues to rant. "Ma'am," he finally asks her, "have you been drinking?" Heeee! Oh, please, please, please let Emily get community service. He tries to get her to take a breathalyzer test, and the purest Emily emerges. "Young man," she says, lowering her eyelids for maximum effect, "I don't know where that's been, but I can tell you with absolute certainty that it won't be going anywhere near my mouth." Wow. Possibly my favorite moment of this entire series. I love Emily, but I wouldn't be sorry to see a clip reel on one of these DVD releases called "Emily Gets Hers."
At the art show, Rory strolls around looking over the pieces, making notes in her notebook -- or pretending to, because Alexis Bledel, like, touches her pen to her paper for a split second like she's miming. Girl, you've GOT a notebook. Just write something! When she sees a water cooler, she goes over for a drink and is stopped by two funky looking chicks wearing some questionable outfits. "What are you doing?" they ask accusingly. "Are you actually drinking that water?" Rory says she didn't realize it was art; she thought it was just a water cooler. "That's her self portrait," the tall one in the babydoll dress says of her friend. When Rory goes pale, they finally let her off the hook. "We're just kidding," tall one says. "It's just a water cooler." She says, however, that her friend is an artist. "I made the horse," the other girl says, pointing to a huge piece Rory was admiring earlier. They have what is supposed to be a cute chat about art, and Rory takes notes for the paper. Turns out that they know Paris. "Paris Gellar is a genius," says the artist, whose name is Olivia, and they just about kill me with their chatter which rivals Logan's dumb friends for sheer annoyingness.
Back at the barn, Audrey Hepburn is singing about being amorous and Fred Astaire agrees that "'s'wonderful and s'marvelous" how they care for each other. Please don't make Fred Astaire an anvil! I love the man! This is not my favorite of his films, but you need not ruin it for me, non-Palladinos. Oh, but they haven't ruined it for Lorelai. She's absolutely loving it. The film ends and the projector cuts off -- who was running that thing, anyway? Leatherface? -- and Lorelai sighs with contentment. "It's so chock full of...words like 'chock full,'" she says. "And, even if Audrey Hepburn was twenty and Fred Astaire was like, eighty..." Christopher: "He was still Fred Astaire." Lorelai: "I mean he could really tap dance." She thanks him for being so nice and so romantic and fun and wonderful. "S'wonderful?" he asks. She says yes, it was s'marvelous. He says the good night doesn't have to end here, since Gigi is staying over at his mom's. "Oh," she says, awkwardly, "that's...nice." He feels the chill, and she notices. She says it's not that she doesn't want to spend the night with him; she does. "I just don't know if I should," she says, and adds that she's not sure if she really trusts him. "Oh," he says, worried, "really?" Yeah, I'm not sure why she wouldn't trust you, dude. Perhaps you could read through six seasons of recaps to refresh your memory. She says that really, she doesn't trust herself or him or them together in this situation, even though she's enjoying herself, and just needs more time. He says he understands, and that he's scared, too, and that they should wait. Great idea! If only you could get in a time machine and go back to 1984! They are interrupted when Lorelai's phone rings and she has a very crazy conversation of "what? Is she ok?" with someone on the other end. Finally, she hangs up and turns to Christopher with more joy in her face than we've seen for a long time. "We have to go," she says. "We have to pick up my mother...from jail. Whooooa, this night just keeps gettin' better and better!"
Back at Luke's apartment, Luke is tucking April in for the night, when she mentions how much she likes her beautiful biology teacher, who she knows is single. She was thinking, she says, that one day she could conveniently forget her biology book and call Luke to bring it to her, thus setting up the romance for the ages. Luke sighs. He guesses, he says, that she knows he and Lorelai broke up. "Yeah," she says, "my mom sort of told me." First of all, how did her mom know? Secondly, ugh. He gives his illegitimate child, who knows this better than anybody, the lesson that sometimes things just do not work out between adults and it's nobody's fault. She shrugs and says, "It's all about pheromones." Does no one care that this breakup has happened? Not Rory? Not April, who Lorelai treated to the world's greatest birthday party? Not anybody but Sookie? The point is, Luke goes on, that April shouldn't feel like she has to take care of him, because he's there to take care of her. "Okay," she says, and asks if he minds if she reads a little more of her biology book before going to sleep. "Real page-turner, huh?" he asks. "Oh, yeah," she says. "Mitosis is insane." See, I could try not to like her, but that's irresistible.
Lorelai, having what is probably the best night of her life, is at the police station with Chris to pick up Emily. She takes picture after picture of the cops. "Am I smiling too much?" she asks him, promising to bring it down a notch as the officers bring a raving Emily out from the back. "Well, you can all be very proud of yourselves," she rants. "You finally got menace to society, Emily Gilmore, off the streets. You'll be hearing from my lawyer." Lorelai so, so happily takes a few more pictures of the policemen before Chris has to drag her out.
In the car, Emily sits austerely in the backseat. "You mind if I turn on the music, Mom?" Lorelai asks. "What are you in the mood for? 'Jailhouse Rock?' 'Folsom Prison Blues'?" Emily snipes that she's very funny. "No, I know, I know," Lorelai says. "'Workin' on the Chain Gang.'" Emily gives her a big hardy har har, but Lorelai continues to dig. She wants to know, she says -- though she is very thankful -- why Emily called her to come get her instead of calling Richard. Emily says that she was not about to call Richard away from his dinner with the dean so that he could come pick her up from jail. She rants on further about the incompetent police force, as Lorelai and Chris giggle in the front seat. Finally, she recognizes that she is riding in a sexy convertible and asks if Lorelai and Chris are on a date. "No way," Lorelai says. "You're not changing the subject. We're not talking about anything else except you in the clink. Now, come on, spill. What was it like on the inside, huh? Did you try to tunnel your way out with a spoon? And, Mom, now that you're on the outside, and they're still on the inside, are they going to try to use you as some kind of prison mule? I just...so much I need to know!" It makes me so mad that she doesn't take this moment to point out that she alone among the living Gilmore women has never been to jail. She sighs with complete happiness as we cut away...
...to Rory bringing her new arty friends back to Logan's apartment. The tall one in the stupid dress is telling a story of an audition from last semester in which some goateed sophomore from Arkansas insisted that a girl could not play Oscar Wilde. Since she's melodramatic enough to pull it off, it's a true shame she didn't get that part. The new girls are dumbfounded when they see the inside of Logan's place, and immediately declare him rich and start messing with his stuff. The one with the dumb shorts turns on the music system and starts dancing around, while Tall One whips out the popcorn machine and pours enough for about seventy people. Can Rory not know some normal, non-annoying people? Is Yale full of nothing but quirky, ambiguously gay freaks? Logan calls and hears the music and is immediately weirdly jealous of her new friends, especially when Rory asks if she can call him back later.
Chris walks Lorelai to her door as she continues to glow over the whole Emily arrest. She points out that this is one favor the universe has owed her for a long time. "Somewhere in my youth or childhood..." she says. Chris: "You must have done something good." At the door, he sighs a worried sigh. "I feel like I might have gotten overshadowed a little bit," he says. "I mean, how's my little barn movie supposed to compare to your mom in jail?" Great question, but Lorelai assures him that the jail thing was just the cherry on top of the evening. "I loved our date," she says. "It was amazing. I loved the movie. I'll never forget the movie I saw the night I picked my mother up from jail." He laughs. "You're never going to get tired of saying that, are you?" he asks. She shakes her head. "'Picked up my mom from jail?'" she repeats. "No, I don't think I ever will." She's mostly glad, she says, that he was the one that was with her when she got to do it, since anyone else would have thought she was deranged for laughing so much. "You just get it, and you're fun," she says, as he pulls her into a kiss. "It's just so nice to be with someone who understands you." They smooch and pull away. He tells her he'll call her tomorrow. "Gigi's with her grandmother, you said?" she asks, and as George Gershwin takes us out, she asks him into the house.