A single girl in a large city must have her share of gay boyfriends. I also happen to work in an industry that is shock full of gay men. Today I feel grateful for these men in my life. Some of them have become like family. I read a poem (not mine) at the wedding of one gay boyfriend. Over the years I have called upon these friends to pick me up after medical procedures that required general anesthesia. Last week, after one such procedure, K picked me up. I treated him to a lovely non-rushed late lunch in the city. We made each other laugh, I asked about his partner and his family, the several jobs he juggles; I kvetched about my love life and my work life. I made jokes, he laughed and offered his smart insights. Although decades separate us, we have a wonderful connection. I worry about his smoking, his multiple jobs. I rely on his technology smarts when I have problems at work, when I have forgotten (again) how to answer calls on my not-Smart cell phone. In return I take him to Broadway plays; I treat him to lunch; I go to his off-off-off Broadway productions. This is the way to conduct a relationship with your gay boyfriend, I have learned.