RORY: Are you enjoying your breakfast?
LORELAI: I don’t know if I like Pop-Tarts.
RORY: Did you fall on your head while you were sleeping?
LORELAI: I don’t know. Do I like this? Is this something I like?
RORY: So you fell on your head and now you have a specific amnesia, is that it?
LORELAI: I mean, what if I don’t like what I like because I like it, but because my mother doesn’t like it, and doesn’t want me to like it. What if I don’t actually like what I like – the music that I like, or the movies, or the clothes, or the men??? What if I don’t like what I seem to like?
RORY: Ah! Hence the Pop-Tart.
LORELAI: Yes, hence. I can remember the first time I had a Pop-Tart. It was at my friend Erica Catcha’s house and she said do you want a Pop-Tart, and I knew that my mother would recoil at the very idea of me. I could just picture her – A Pop-Tart??? And so I had one. And I opened the little silver wrapper, and I took a bite, and I thought nothing had ever tasted so good. I thought it tasted like… freedom… It tasted like I was my own person. The Pop-Tart tasted like freedom and rebellion and independence.
RORY: Wow. That’s some Pop-Tart. What flavor was that?