L: 2 Stars
J: 5 stars
Hi, I’m Dean Forester.
I’m dreamy. I stock groceries. I rock a white t-shirt and leather jacket like ANOTHER Dean you may have heard of. I am on top of the world because I just had my first date with you, Rory Gilmore, the girl I’ve been following around and watching for months. I know I sort of sound like a stalker, but I should come off more like a smitten puppy dog because this is the WB.
Granted, our first date was with your mother and, yeah, so maybe your mother initiated it, but it that was all part of my master plan. It doesn’t matter “who asked who out.” It was a date. With me and you. And your mom. And it was terrific.
Except for one thing. The date was great and all, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention it. I am a pure blooded, Chicago-born American man. Tonight I treaded into the Estrodome, and came out unscathed. I am basically invincible. But I need you to know that despite how much I enjoyed our first date that your mother arranged for us and also attended, I did NOT care for your movie selection. I need to know ASAP when you and your mom accept date movie suggestions. I’m not leaving until I get an answer.
Don’t take offense! Charlie and the Chocolate Facory is fine, but it’s simply not my taste. The movie is for children. We just recently became teenagers. I am almost old enough to figure out how to ask a real girl out. I’m too old for Oompa Loompas. Is candy supposed to excite me? A chocolate river? Snozzberries? Please. And it’s not so much what it had – my real gripe is was what was missing. Not enough cocaine. Not enough bare boobs. Not enough suicide. Not enough Burt Reynolds. Not enough Sister Christian. Not enough gay male prostitution in Denny’s parking lots. And certainly not enough prosthetic genitalia. No, not nearly enough of any of these things for Dean Forester’s liking. If you think Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is a good movie, I actually feel bad for you both. I have so much to teach you, and also your mother, about film.
Don’t get me wrong. I had a great time. But I just need you to know, that had I my choice, I, Dean Forester, would have STRONGLY preferred Boogie Nights. On my first date with you, the high school sophomore I have a crush on, plus also your mom. Boogie Nights would have been the most appropriate film for the moment. By far. Take it from me, Dean Forester, film connoisseur. It should have been Boogie Nights.
Listen, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, but am Dean fucking Forester. It doesn’t get much better than me. I work for Doosey’s fucking Market. I call soda “pop.” I’ll kiss you in the cornstarch aisle, IDGAF. I will make you a bracelet out of strips of leather and drop a full bus fare to chat with you for one stop like it’s chump change. I am a star. I’m a star I’m a star. I am a big bright shining star. I don’t ask for much. But Jesus Christ Rory, just let me watch Boogie Nights with you and your mother. This is important to me. For the love of God, when does the guest get to pick the movie?
Dean Forester is the worst. He is an absolute a monster, which you should EASILY realize after this episode, Season 1 Episode 7, in which he ends his first date with Rory (and Lorelai) by making it clear that he much would have preferred to have watched Boogie Nights. Spoiler alert: he never redeems himself.