I left my house at 6:30 in the morning excited and ready to experience something I’ve only ever dreamed of — getting coffee from Luke’s Diner, a staple set on the comedy-drama TV show, Gilmore Girls.
I’ve followed the escapades of Lorelai and Rory Gilmore for most of my life. I laughed when Rory stole a box of cornstarch after her first kiss; cringed whenever Taylor Doosey led a town meeting; swooned when Sookie and Jackson finally went on a date; and cried my eyes out when Lorelai broke up with Luke (both times), leading to a recovery Gilmore-esque feast of pop-tarts and marshmallows.
Not only was the show full of quick-witted dialogue and loveable characters, but it showed a side of teen drama that wasn’t boy-obsessed or filled with unnecessary dating triangles.
While Gilmore Girls did touch on relationships, it also showcased developed characters who cared more about their ambitions than who they were going out with at night. In fact, no Gilmore girl would ever settle or change their lifestyle for a guy, and that’s something I really respected and learned from as a young girl.
And then there was Rory Gilmore. She was a bookworm — smart, academically driven, and completely comfortable with who she was. As she struggled to figure out what it meant to be a teen, a university student, and then an adult, so did I. I watched as she pursued journalism in high school and university, struggling to befriend her nemesis Paris Geller, and fought for her perfect study tree. In the end, she succeeded in getting a job in journalism, something that gave me hope as I ventured out into a similar profession.
After years of watching this show over and over again (thanks Netflix), I was ecstatic to hear there would be four pop-up “Luke’s Diners” in Toronto. I knew I had to go, even if it would mean being slightly late for work. The line was already around the corner when I arrived around 7:15 a.m. and took my place among a sea of plaid, flannel, and backwards baseball hats. While I waited for my free coffee, I chatted with the group of women around me, discussing our favourite episodes and arguing about whether Rory should have married Logan, or stayed with Jesse or Dean.
As the line unravelled and I got closer to the storefront, I saw the sign. Luke’s Diner, just like the show. I snapped a photo and moved inside the independent coffee shop The Rolling Pin, near Lawrence and Yonge. After a bit of a wait got a coffee with a sleeve that said Luke’s Diner. The cup itself had one of my favourite quotes on them (Coffee please and a shot of cynicism).
And then…I left. That was it. I stood in line for one and a half hours for a picture of a sign and a cup of coffee with a marketing sleeve.
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I know it was more than that. I thought the music of Carol King, the singer of the infamous theme song “Where You Lead”, would be playing in the background. I thought there would be cut out of the characters and a list of Luke’s diner rules plastered in large print on the wall (it was there, but it was typed on regular printing paper and tapped messily on the wall). I also thought they would be selling some cool Gilmore Girl merchandise — which was honestly a lost opportunity because the group I was with would have purchased anything after that wait! Baseball hats, tshirts, even roasted coffee with the words “Luke’s Diner” would have sold like, well, Luke’s coffee!
I know these pop-ups are marketing ploys, but a little more effort could have been made to make the experience more complete. Netflix could have provided a lot more in terms of supplies. I don’t think the coffee shops had enough time to do any sort of re-decorating and some of them struggled with the mass amount of people waiting to enter their storefront.
Suffice to say, it was a great idea, but it was all poorly executed. With the Gilmore Girl revival coming to Netflix in November, you would think there would be more of a fanfare. You know, Lorelai Gilmore style?
But, I got my picture with a Luke’s Diner sign. So, I guess that’s okay.
Oy with the poodles already — am I right?