As terrible as he is at it, the amount of love that Rufus puts into his parenting -- while it does often resemble being at Ground Zero of this, like, nuclear love attack -- is one of the most wonderful things about him. That and the choker. So if I were Dan, and knew that Rufus was seriously going nuts right now, which he is, I would allow him to follow me around all day, and maybe I would sit in his lap or at his feet while he played me James Taylor songs on the guitar. Maybe I would do that and not feel weird about it. If there were a no-turtleneck rider, I could do this. But not Dan, who finally throws Rufus a bone in the form of letting him walk him to school, since it's the first day of his last semester and Rufus has bought a townhouse on Nostalgia Lane for the duration of Projekt Inspektor. "But no hugs." Rufus is crestfallen, because he was picturing some kind of piggyback or three-legged race, but also: you're WALKING your kid to school, in MANHATTAN, from BROOKLYN? Rufus can get around the city faster than a bitch. How does he do it? Maybe it's a metaphor, but with this show it needn't be.
Blair stands at attention, hands clasped: "Of course, the Colony Club is the oldest, most prestigious ladies' club in the city. I'm honored just to be considered..." The camera comes around on Dorota, B's audience for this crap; she's appropriately breathless about what must have been a ten-minute spiel of which we saw the last sentence: "Oh, Miss Blair! They must take you as member!" Blair of course will not stand for that kind of optimistic mealy-mouthed motherfuckerism, and tells Dorota the Colony Club "must" do nothing but what their vile hearts desire most. "It's the Colony Club, the most exclusive club in New York. Which means the world." Dorota nods, somehow implying both that B is right and she's a moron, but also how on earth could she have forgotten that New York is actually the entire world. Thank Christ real New Yorkers don't ever make that mistake.
"Now, when the selection committee comes over tomorrow, things have to be perfect. It's my first step to building the kind of life I want. One without..." B nods her head in the general direction of the past, tentatively, and D's like "Mr. Chuck?" Blair goes, "Shhhhhhhh" and D, without missing a beat, shushes herself. "It's a New Year, Dorota! Time to focus on a new, unencumbered future!" Of course, that's when her phone blings and she gets the text from Uncle Jack. (His name is "Jack Bass," which is funny when you see it written down because it sounds like something Blair will ultimately turn into an insult.) Jack's got C in custody: "Headed to apartment." So of course Blair flipflops immediately, slapping her phone closed and smiling wildly. "Then again, to deny one's past is to deny oneself. We'll discuss the party on our way." B heads for the elevator, and D loses precious milliseconds in grabbing their coats, only to see the elevator doors closing in her face. And I mean, this show is great because now this incredibly bitchy bullshit makes sense, because she only does it when she's actually overextended to the point of crazy, so we should all go back to S1 when she did shit like this every five seconds and see how nuts she actually went while S was gone. You know?