Touring, touring, dropping the name of EIC Stefano Tonchi, for whom Blair has of course created an insane PowerPoint presentation, and Epperly is like, "Look, I've been Stefano's assistant since he took over and I've barely had five minutes alone with him. Keep it in your pants. We talk mad mess about the open door policy, but he's still crazy busy. This isn't some kind of bullshitty Joe Zee situation where he's going to sit down and slurp iced lattes with you."
That's when Epperly introduces B to her fellow interns. Of course, Blair assumed that she would be the only person on staff, because she's quote Blair Waldorf, and Epperly just laughs and is intimidatingly put together some more: "They're all Blair Waldorfs: Princeton, Yale, Penn, and Parsons." And then the sixth intern arrives: Mr. Dan Humphrey, of the Brooklyn Humphreys, who goes to NYU and whose existence Blair has always found troubling. The fires of war rise within her, and Dan couldn't be happier. The Human Scrunchy.
Cinema scion Jonathan, whose relationship with Eric van der Woodsen ended in a Pinkberry avalanche and priceless mobster-movie paraphernalia, shows up at PRADA MARFA with some shit Eric left at school at some point. Lily's happy to see Jonathan, and they talk about how their painful breakup was a bloodbath but now Eric's sleeping over at his bisexual boyfriend's house all the time. (Not normal. Don't let your teenagers sleep over with each other, if they are dating. That's a great way to get pregnant.)
Jonathan stutters for a second before blabbing the entirety of the fact that Elliott dumped Eric over the holidays, so wherever Eric's been sleeping it's not been at Elliott's. Which would not be okay, I repeat, but would still be more okay than stranger dangers. Which is what's happening: Eric's been sleepovering at Damien Dalgaard's house. Damien, he loves him some Gen Y. I will give you that. Cut to Damien handing over Eric's coffee with a glimmer of hope in his eyes: As long as Eric is appeased, he's this much closer to literally sleeping with every relative of Serena's that he can find. Chuck was easy, Dan will present no problem, Jenny and her virginity were frankly a hassle, but nobody can do lonely like bossy little Eric van der Woodsen.
Serena wanders the streets looking for a building full of ex-cons, and eventually finds it. When the friendly fellow outside explains that she's looking at a halfway house, for the first time Serena actually looks like she might cry. Not the black tears of a murderess, but actual compassion for another human being. And underneath that, the crippling sense that this is somehow her fault. And all the sex she's been planning on having with Ben since she was a kid turns into not just a fantasy but very much a humanitarian mission. It's going to take more than those condescending gardening tools, sweetheart.