Outside, Lane asks how the Harvard lunch went. Lorelai says that Darren makes a killer chicken when he sticks a lemon up its butt. A cute boy walks up to Lane and shakes her hand. He's the guy that called on Lorelai's machine earlier. His name is Dave. He knew it was Lane because of her Dead Kennedys t-shirt. They bemoan the departure of Jello Biafra from the band and mock the kid from The Courtship of Eddie's Father. "What's next: Urkel joining the Wu-Tang Clan?" Lane wonders. Dave: "Or maybe Malcolm in the Middle fronting the Butthole Surfers." Lane asks about Dave's band. He says that, statistically, its influences are thirty-eight of the forty-three bands Lane listed. He is about to play her a demo they recorded a couple of weeks ago, which launches into an annoying audiophile monologue that I'm too lazy to look up to spell correctly. It's, like, amps and hook-ups and plug-ins and stuff nobody in high school could probably afford anyway. Lane accidentally tells Dave that she loves him. They go to a bench somewhere. Rory tells Lorelai that she thinks a love song's in their future. "With lots of lyrics about snogging," Lorelai says in an accent. Somehow, Rory's never heard of snogging. To prove it, she plants chaste kisses on CuteDean when he arrives at that moment. "That's snogging," Lorelai says. "Got it," Rory says. In all her books, she never read Bridget Jones's Diary? I don't believe it. Lorelai excuses herself.