Actually, that's a good contrast, as much as I'm trying not to compare the two shows: most of the cast of this show is a bit more highly bred, and thus less healthy-looking, than the cast of The O.C.. It is a motherfucker trying to explain myself without insulting anybody, because I don't mean it in a rude way. Kirsten Cohen and Serena -- and maybe Chuck Bass -- could probably do either show, but that's it: the lovely, classy Jeri Ryan would seem hopelessly vulgar on this show, while all these vulpine boys in their scarves and waistcoats would be snapped like twigs before the water polo team even showed up. Kaitlin Cooper could take them down with one hand tied behind her back and a raging case of alopecia. I miss Kaitlin Cooper.
Off in some other corner of their totally swank living quarters, Blair's boyfriend Nate Archibald is being grilled about his college choices by his dad and his dad's friend Captain Chips. The most boring of all conversations, in both real life and the world of movies and television. Before he can even open his mouth, his dad's like, "Actually, I'm a Dartmouth man." Because, see, Nate feels like his whole life is planned out for him and that he is the carrier of the family name and whatever, and that's apparently his entire character, but at least it explains his bad-boy behavior, which is neither really "bad," nor strictly boyish. Everybody on this entire show is like a scary thirty-eight-year-old woman. With a gun in her purse. Who is drunk. It's a truth universally known than any rich kid in high school is having total freak-out about college due to parental control. While Nate is waxing about how he'd like to go to USC or UCLA, Dad jokes about how "Dartmouth is far enough away" for Nate's mom, and Nate obliges that, for all the listed reasons, Dartmouth is still his first choice. Blair grabs Nate to go do it, but Chuck tries to get him to go smoke a joint. He's like, "When I get back from being devoured by Blair, yeah." Chuck's not hopeful that this will happen. Nate looks like a friendlier Ian Somerhalder, Chuck looks like... See, Chuck, here's the thing. You can either be raging hot, or you can look like Jimmy Fallon with a chromosomal abnormality, but you can't have both. He refuses to make up his mind, and it's crazy-making.
Back in Blair's bedroom, stoner Nate is a bit slow on the uptake as to what she wants. Even as she's straddling him on the bed, he's like, "What's going on?" She explains that it's time for them to do it, because they've been dating forever and until just now she was planning on waiting. "Not anymore," she grouses, and tries valiantly to, in the classy words of Gossip Girl, "lock it down with Nate."