Newsroom. Doyle's arguing with some girl to the effect that if she wants her article to be just "perfectly good," then she should go to Harvard. Rory brings Doyle the ice cream he requested. Doyle is unhappy, because this strawberry ice cream has real strawberries in it. "I don't even know how to respond to that," Rory says. But he takes it anyway. Rory asks why he's so grumpy. Doyle says he's got an issue to put out and a big hole on the back page because his editorial writers chose to be unopinionated today. He admits that he also got rejected as a Yale stringer for Time. Doyle says that this is a major blow to his career. "You're twenty," says Rory. Glenn comes up and says it's unfair that Paris gets to bail on tonight. Doyle and Rory didn't know that Paris was gone, but Rory covers, saying that Paris had a family emergency thing that she must have left for.
Digger's in a robe. Try to contain yourselves, ladies. Lorelai asks if he has a Cosmo lying around so that she can find out how many calories they just burned. Digger says he looked: "It's 55." Lorelai says it must be way more. He hands her some water and asks if she's cold: "I could turn up the heat." Lorelai: "Oh, please. Enough with the bragging." She says she's good, and that she'll fall asleep extremely happy tonight. This gets Digger a little tense. He tells Lorelai to remember that she likes his weird little quirks. "You're not going to ask to wear my dress, are you?" she asks. Digger admits that he sleeps alone. Always. He's a terribly light sleeper and can't sleep with anyone else. He says there's a spectacular guest room made up (apparently he's had to appease many, many ladies over the years and has learned what kind of room keeps a girl until the morning), and that it's nothing personal, but could Lorelai kindly get her cheap ass off his Egyptian cotton? He wants her to stay over so that he can make her breakfast and have her be adjacent-ish when he gets up in the morning. Lorelai says she's a big girl and can handle the truth, so she should go home anyway. Digger swears that he's not trying to get rid of her, and begs her to take a peek at the guest room. She says he's weird.
But Lorelai looks at the room. It's filled with books, which means I wouldn't mind having to stay there every night. There's a fully loaded mini-bar with soda, candy, and tiny bottles of hooch. Mmm. CD player, CDs, and a DVD library. Oh, yeah. Keep going, Digger. Faster! Faster! Digger hits a remote and a plasma television raises from the foot of the bed. My boyfriend is now dating Digger. "Oh, come on, now that is cool," Digger says to Lorelai. She admits that the room is good. Digger wishes this were his own room, but that if he has any distractions, he can't sleep: "TV, reading material, absolutely gorgeous woman." Lorelai scoffs that she should at least get billing over the television. "It's plasma," Digger says. Lorelai: "Oh. Well." He tells Lorelai that the bathroom is stocked with Kiehl's, and now I'm dating Digger. Lorelai says that if she leaves it won't be that big a deal. If she leaves, I'm going over there. Lorelai says she'll stay, adding, "Freak." He thanks her, kisses her, and goes off to his sensory-deprivation tank. Lorelai jumps into bed and turns on The Daily Show. Yep, that's a perfect night, right there.