At Luke's, the team is celebrating their shut-out massacre of the Fred's Dry Cleaning team. Luke is trying to suggest a calmer, gentler game. "They ate some dirt!" one of the girls yells, and Megan and Tillie explain that being aggressive is part of the game. "You're not being competitive," Megan says, "if your jersey doesn't have a little O-negative on it." Awesome. I love Megan, especially when Luke suggests that maybe it isn't cool to do a bicycle kick on another girl's head. Megan leans back, throwing her hands up: "She was all up in my grill!" Luke says he knows, and that he doesn't like it when people are all up in his grill, either, but that there are ways besides violence to deal with it. Tillie insists that they just play the way the boys play, and Luke says that yeah, but boys are boys, and girls are girls. Oops. Way to go, Luke. The needle comes off the record, and they all turn to stare at him. Megan puts her head in her hands. "So," Tillie says, "we're just supposed to play like cute little girls at some tea party?" Good one, Tillie. The girls yell that they want to win, so they gotta kick some butt! Luke is amazed and leaves to answer the phone as the team goes over the beat down again. It's Lorelai. She's really worried about Paul Anka. He won't eat or walk around or anything. She says that the vet said that he has some kind bug and that she should let him be. She's still really worried, though, and Luke says he'll be over as soon as he can get the brawlers out of the diner. "They eat like pigs," he says, "so it should be soon." As he hangs up, we hear a cute little voice from the table recounting to cheers how "she went one way, and her knee went the other!" Yeah! Eat it, all you Title IX naysayers! In your face!
A painful scene is being played out back at Logan's favorite pub, where he has brought Rory and Jess for dinner. Jess says that the place is fine with him, and Logan suggests that he not try to come on Folk Night. Jess says he's not a big fan of folk music. "That's something we have in common," Logan smarms, as he orders another round for everyone and generally acts like Dr. Seuss on speed, asking if Rory and Jess used to date. Rory says yes. "Ah, no hemming, no hawing," Logan says. "Good course of action." He asks Jess what he does, and Jess blandly answers, "This and that." Not good enough for Logan, who is getting about as aggressive now as Tillie on a penalty kick. "Describe the 'this,'" he says. "Describe the 'that.'" Rory is getting annoyed, and explains that Jess writes, and that he has just published a book. Logan asks how big a book it is: "Short novel? Kafka-length? Or, longer? Dos Passos? Tolstoy? Little longer? Robert Musil? Proust? I'm not throwing you with these names, am I?" Ugh. Oh, yes, Logan, you're a literary scholar. Jess deadpans that Logan seems very obsessed with length. Awesome. Logan keeps it up, saying that he should just write down all his random thoughts, add a bunch of "he said"s, "she said"s, and get it published. I must tell you now the story of this dude who was on a blind date with a friend of mine once, in my presence, whose insecurity was so ripe and so palpable that you could not mention an accomplishment or a profession without him one-upping you to beat the band. We called him The Lumberjack, because I believe cutting timber in the Arctic Circle was the last thing he claimed to be capable of doing. He also referred to Céline Dion as being from "Canadia" and, when very, very politely corrected, got offended and huffed, "What, that's not the way you say it?" I will never forget that asshole as long as I live. Logan is that guy. Logan tells Jess he ought to send him a copy of his book. "Well..." Jess says. "Where do I send it? 'The Blond Dick at Yale'?" HA HA HA! Can you really say "dick" on TV like that, now? ["At least since Felicity, where it was Ben Covington's favourite insult." -- Wing Chun] I don't know how I feel about it, but I love it right here. On that note, Jess gets up to leave, amid Logan's mocking protests, and Rory goes after him, telling Logan not to follow her.