In the morning, Rory comes out of her room to find Lorelai in deep contemplation of her Pop-Tart. She's wigging, she says, because of her parents' non-reaction to the breakup story: "It's almost like the absence of their reaction was worse than any freakout they could've had." She says it made her wonder why she cared so much how they reacted to things: "And then I thought that maybe their freakouts are like some sort of compass for me. Like I know I'm doing what I want to do, because it freaks them out!" Here eyes are googly as she explains that it made her wonder if she even really likes the things she likes, or if she only likes the music and movies and food and men she likes because her mother doesn't like them. She remembers, for example, the first Pop-Tart she ever had: "I knew my mother would recoil at the very idea of me having a Pop-Tart. I thought it tasted like freedom. It tasted like I was my own person. It tasted like freedom, and rebellion and independence." Rory: "Wow, that was some Pop-Tart. What flavor was that?" Lorelai goes on, wondering if she would ever like Pop-Tarts if the Gilmores had made her eat them every day, and to test this theory, she's eaten every one of them in the house, much to Rory's chagrin. "If it makes you feel any better," Lorelai says. "I don't know if I like them!" As Rory goes for the substitute Fruit Loops, Lorelai asks how her conversation went last night with Logan. "I don't know if it's the trans, or the Atlantic," Rory says, "but Helen Keller and Stephen Hawking could have a more connective conversation." Oh, snap. That shouldn't have made me laugh, at all, but it did. What's next, some man-with-no-legs jokes? Damn. Rory says that her conversations with Logan are awkward and pause-y, and that the more she tries to connect, the more disconnected she feels, and that the feeling makes her go into a spiral of self-consciousness. "Maybe it's just the salt in the ocean that corrodes conversations, or something," she concludes.
During the commercial break, these damn aerie girls say some stupid shit that I can't even repeat. Shut up, CW.
Luke is serving lunch to Babette and Miss Patty, who are desperately trying to figure out what's different about the diner. He assures them that nothing has changed. Miss Patty says that he must have done something to the windows. "Yeah," Babette screeches. "It's a lot less gloomy than it used to be!" Luke: "Identical level of gloom, people!" Babette, bouncing in her seat, decides that Luke must have bought new chairs. "I knew my butt felt more comfortable." Luke insists that Babette's butt feels exactly the same. Heeee. I don't have time, praise Jesus, to think any further about Sally Struthers's butt, because Rory walks in. She and Luke exchange friendly, though stilted, pleasantries. She congratulates him on his reopening. "New hat?" she asks, noticing what really is new around the place. Luke comments that he didn't think she was going to make it back to Stars Hollow this summer. "Oh, I wasn't," she says. "But...then, I did." Luke gives Rory a half-smile. "Things change," he says, full of meaning. Rory nods uncomfortably, and I yell loudly. Please do not freaking tell me that after six seasons of buildup, those two words will be the sendoff of this relationship. PLEASE. I will not be able to keep my eyes from absolutely rolling right out of my skull.