John, the owner's son, walks up to Lorelai's front desk and begins rifling through a drawer. Lorelai tells him she just lied to her friends and co-workers by saying it wasn't a big deal that he's there. He says that they have to close off three more rooms, and that the estimate isn't pretty. Lorelai says they'll be left with only two rooms if they close off three more. "Mom's leaning toward selling," John says. Wouldn't Lorelai be close friends with John, since he would have been around the Inn while they were both growing up? Why do I always try to make this show fit all the rules, when they don't care? Lorelai says it'd be sad if the Inn closed, since Rory grew up there, as did Lorelai. Yeah, well, once you open your inn and take away the Independence's remaining clients, you'll be pretty much slamming the final nail into the coffin, won't you, Lor? ["Plus I think the jury's still out on whether Lorelai ever grew up." -- Wing Chun] John doesn't want to hear Lorelai's maudlin monologue, either, so he excuses himself back to his group. Lorelai tells him to be careful not to trip over their guest. He promises he won't, and we fade to commercial. I wish this episode were at least funny.

Why does Kate Hudson get to keep being in movies?

Jackson and Sookie's house. Lorelai interrupts their evening alone by shouting through their door that they'd better not be in bed. She's brought champagne to celebrate. Lorelai tells Sookie to get glasses and orders Jackson to put on any music he wants, as long as it's festive. Lorelai immediately negates Jackson's first two choices of festive music until he suggests something she likes. The music's on, the glasses are ready. Lorelai pours two glasses of champagne for herself and Jackson, and pours a glass of apple juice for Sookie. They raise their glasses, and Lorelai announces that the Independence Inn has just closed down. They're all out of jobs. Sookie and Lorelai have no income, and therefore Lorelai can't afford to pay for the Dragonfly, because somehow her weekly salary at the Independence was going to be enough to offset the cost of Yale, but without her five hundred bucks a week or so, now she can't afford to buy a building and put her daughter through an Ivy League school. Television money is awesome. I wish I had a television job, like Monica's sometimes-chef work that allows her to live in that kick-ass apartment with Chandler, who's interning. ["Hey! He has a real job now! He's a copywriter!" -- Wing Chun] Or Joey, who works every once in a while. ["Dude, he's on Days, remember?" -- Wing Chun] ["Yeah, now. But for the first million seasons he lived off Chandler and sandwiches. And how much does Phoebe charge by the hour, anyway?" -- Pamie] Or how Frasier lives in the richest apartment in Seattle by being a radio-show host. I write a weekly column here and I wrote a book. Can I have Carrie Bradshaw's brownstone and thirty-thousand-dollar closet of shoes? Anyway, the three pretend to still be super-happy as they drink their drinks and realize that they won't see each other as often and will have to find different jobs now that their dreams have died and a baby's on the way. You'd think Sookie and Lorelai would be happy to know the Inn has closed so there's no competition with their own inn. Why not take out a loan? Or see if Mia wants to be a part owner in their inn? I must stop caring so much. Do you think all this faux happiness is exactly how all the actors look after getting a script like this at a table read? Working so hard to pretend you're happy with the way things have turned out?