"I think you guys would really like each other," V says of her tragic boyfriend, repeating the theme of how stupid girls are and only do what boys want even when they think they're doing what they themselves want, because the only reason she wants Dan and Scott to meet is that Scott wants to meet his half-brother Dan. And then, God willing, cut off and cure and tan his skin and make a tailored D-Hump suit and mask out of it, and live out his life as the eldest Humphrey, with none the wiser.
Oh but it gets better because she's been working this shit all summer and still hasn't gotten anywhere ("okay, maybe there's been a little bit of flirting," she says, in response to something that is just chillingly not a question about that), which is amazing because that's exactly how it went down with Dan, she never got anywhere and just kept putting stranger and stranger outfits on herself in an attempt to compete with Serena. And now she's got herself a half-Dan half-Serena boyfriend that won't even kiss her, and that's like literally everything it takes to make Vanessa Abrams happy, because she is justifiably self-hating.
Dan pays for their coffee with one of the many benjies crowding his designer wallet, and Vanessa shits herself entirely. He valiantly tries to make it a joke a few times ("Do you know how hard it is to break one of those things?" and later "Have you seen the stitching?") but there's no humor when Vanessa's in the house. You know this. So he explains way more than he fucking needs to about how it's not actually shameful to have a wallet because it was a gift from Lily, and could she fucking get off his ass for like one second, but no.
"Oh my God, Dan Humphrey's been seduced by wealth. It had to happen. Even Frodo eventually gave in to the power of the Ring." Oh, fuck you, Vanessa. She seriously is the best character in the entire universe because she makes me feel like TV is real. After doing this job for so long I can't just give in and do that anymore very often, but man, Vanessa makes me feel like I'm five years old, honestly wondering why Gargamel has to act like such a dickhead all the time.
"I'm still me. I just have a nicer wallet. And as for your friend, I'd love to meet him." Vanessa laughs, like she believes a word of that, and then compounds the horror: "How about tomorrow? We can do 'Brooklyn things,' like go to the Dumpling Truck and play 'signed or unsigned' on the Promenade."
The other good thing about fantasies and cartoons and things of this nature is that they're not real. I mean, it's fun to think about "What if a wizard hated little blue people," but mostly it's fun because you know little blue people are highly unlikely. What makes Vanessa so violently disturbing is that she actually exists and there are more of her than there are of you. And you just might be one and not even know it. Those are the two really scary parts. Because there's no authenticity out-clause about liking things just because you happen to like them: You can't make hipster exceptions, because that's how it happens. One Brooklyn thing becomes three Brooklyn things, and then you yourself become one large Brooklyn thing, complaining about hipsters, and it's all motherfucking over.