At the Dragonfly, Lorelai is suffering through tea with Paris, who is up in arms about choosing the correct thing to sleep in when consistently sharing a bed with a man. Oh, the eternal debate. "I mean, nightgowns are obviously out," Paris says, "but wearing nothing seems extreme and, in case of fire, completely impractical." Hee. I'm sorry to derail, internet, but I have to give you a very brief lesson: just don't sleep nude. Because one day you'll be sixteen and going through this nude-sleeping phase which you are trying to keep from your parents who would most likely make no end of fun of you for it and you'll wake up kind of sickly early one Sunday morning and creep down to the bathroom and faint. You've never fainted before, so you don't know what's going on, but as you come around after hitting the floor, you realize the only person awake in the house is your dad, reading the paper in the living room, and now he is slowly opening the bathroom door responding to the weird thud your naked ass just made against the tile. And even in the midst of this medical crisis, you will have to force yourself to become cognizant enough to emit a strangled, slow-motion cry of "Geeeeeeeetttt Mooooooootheeeerrrrr," which he will do, and your mother will come in and find her nude child all gangled up and she will have to wrestle you into a bathrobe while simultaneously panicking and laughing at you. I could have been dying and the woman laughed! I mean, uh, you know, I am just giving you a hypothetical situation, here, of course, but I'm just saying: Sleeping in the nude can only lead to lifelong humiliation. Paris runs through her options. Camisoles strangle her and she's not a teddy girl. Lorelai suggests t-shirts, but Paris has concerns. What will t-shirts say to Doyle about her? "Sweetie," Lorelai says, in pain from this endless girl talk, "it's just a t-shirt. They don't tend to be that chatty." ["Sure, they do!" -- Wing Chun] Paris says she should maybe consider the completely-naked option. After all, she says, she's twenty-one, and her ass will never be any better than it is now: "I should exploit that, right?" Lorelai says that Paris absolutely should, suggesting that she get a video camera and go to town. Paris nods, saying that she's starting to fade. Lorelai openly celebrates, thinking that this is signaling the end of their meeting, but Paris just wants to order another espresso. Lorelai hems, lying they're out of espresso: "We shut down the machine down at 3:00 to give it a rest. It's Italian, so it's a little temperamental." Lorelai rushes Paris out, now, and says she looks forward to seeing her again on Tuesday.