When I re-watch Gilmore Girls
every month or so, I’m always reminded of a few pet peeves. In addition to the obvious–Rory getting into Harvard, Princeton, and Yale with almost no extracurriculars, Dave’s unceremonious disappearance, everything having to do with Logan and that stupid Birkin bag–I always think to myself, “How on Earth do Lorelai and Rory always have an entire day before I would even be awake?”
Think about it. Lorelai, especially, is supposed to be a late riser. Rory presumably had to leave for school around 6:30 AM–at latest–while she was commuting to Chilton on a city bus. Neither of them are “get up at 5:00 AM and jog before work” types, so how the hell do they regularly go to Luke’s and have cogent, witty conversation for about an hour before they start their day? Realistically, I told myself, they would do what most of us with questionable grooming habits do: press the snooze button four times, roll out of bed ten minutes before they have to leave, mumble something to each other about how it’s unfair that cats get to sleep all day, and begrudgingly open their eyes like newborns just in time to drive safely to school/work.
But then, Luke’s pop-up diner happened. The Gilmore Girls revival ran a promotion in which coffee shops all over the country turned into Luke’s Diner. But it was only open for five hours–between 7:00 AM and noon–so my friends and I were forced to go to Luke’s for breakfast, just like Lorelai and Rory. We got up at 5:30 AM, waited in line halfway down the block for free coffee, managed to sit in a very comfortable booth by hovering rudely (just like Lorelai and Rory!), and had a lovely breakfast for about an hour. Then, I brought Nerdy Spice and Keets a Luke’s diner coffee cup at their apartment (for which I walked through Washington Square Park and thought of Jess), all before I had to go to work at nine.
The experience of the pop-up diner was amazing for any Gilmore Girls fanatic, because even though it wasn’t super elaborate, it was sufficiently nostalgic. The sight of the “Luke’s Diner” sign was almost as exciting as the revival announcement, patrons got to answer trivia questions for extra cups, and best of all, the baristas were wearing flannels and backwards baseball caps. (Yes, that’s a random barista from The Bean on Broadway in the above picture, not Luke.) Plus, the cups had a new quotation from the revival on them, as well as a Snapchat thing that none of us could figure out, because we’re old.
But beyond the nostalgia, the simple act of getting up early before work and having breakfast with people you love was unexpectedly transformative. Of the four of us who went to Luke’s that morning, three of us hate our jobs, and within an hour of leaving the cafe we were all g-chatting each other saying, “I’m in such a good mood today! We should wake up at 6:00 AM and get breakfast all the time!”
Spending actual quality time with my friends and partner before heading off to stressful jobs was the best thing I’d done in weeks. Since the day hadn’t started yet, I didn’t have to feel guilty about relaxing. I felt rejuvenated and ready to face the day. I was reminded that my entire life wasn’t work, which made it much easier to deal with my terrible job. And although it might be a little insane to do it every day, like Lorelai and Rory did, my friends and I already have plans to get up early and have breakfast once a week.
GG has taught me so much over the years: that flawed women are more interesting women, never to trust any man with spiky hair, how to reference The Godfather [or Heathers! -Nerdy Spice] without actually having to watch it. But as it turns out, even when I think the show is flawed, it’s being smarter than me. Bring on more life lessons in the revival, Gilmore Girls, I’ll never doubt you again.