Nate meets Blair on the steps of the church and kisses her, telling her how beautiful she looks, and she laughs and creepily asks him if he's trying to seduce her on church property before they go inside. She natters at him about not getting seated behind Sweet Caroline Kennedy at the wedding, whom she unfairly describes as a "giraffe," but it makes Nate laugh, because he has no idea who that is. Or what a giraffe is.
Nate's got some knowledge to drop: first, he's having lunch with Tripp (which is where he finds out that Granderbilt William was the one that called the SEC on the Captain) and second that he got into Columbia. Proving that Nate sometimes really is just that retarded, he goes, "I wanted to see if I could get in without any family help, you know. I mean, all my grandfather had to do to get me into Yale was just make a phone call, and..." Her face is sad, his is sadder, and he apologizes for being a dullard. But I mean, suck it up, Waldorf. That's what happens when you only apply to like one school.
(Not to mention the only things Nate's done are have sex in public with both cougars and women his own age, once while drunk and underage, defraud the FBI, take illegal possession of seized property, gamble illegally with known drug distributors, break onto school property, and commit multiple counts of assault in public. I mean, it's not like he invited somebody to the opera at the wrong time or anything really heinous like that.) But whatever, ass, he feels sorry, Blair fake-smiles in that heartbreaking way where it's like she's actually grasping the idea of other people and being happy for them, and then he manages to go even further with it, saying he's "torn" between the school she's wanted to attend since birth and the school he was able to get into all on his own.
Thank God for Maureen, who comes up to tell Blair she's "too new on the scene" for the Whitney committee, because after all, "when it comes to these things, it takes a while to start to matter." Between these two saying this shit, I can't believe Blair didn't just produce a machine gun from under her skirts somewhere and mow down all these fuckers. Even worse, they chose one of Maureen's bridesmaids, and Blair's not even gotten that. "Hey, if it makes you feel any better, Maureen had to pick her bridesmaids from a list provided by my grandfather." Um, no. It doesn't. Because any list your grandfather has in his hand, I mean to be on it: Bridesmaids, hitmen, Pinkertons, whatever. Can I remind you of the list of "future wives for Nate," which as recently as two weeks ago contained VANESSA ABRAMS? How exclusive is this shit?