He sidled up to her at a mutual friend's party and, after some small talk, asked the question. "So, do you have a boyfriend?" "No," she said. "I'm flexible enough I don't need one."

He blinked. "Flexible?"

"Yup." She reached back and up between her shoulderblades. "See? I don't need help washing or scratching my back."

"Um. Having someone to clean your back isn't the only reason to have a boyfriend. What about companionship?"

"I have friends."

"Uh, intimate companionship."

"They're close friends."

"Yeah, but what about..." he lowered his voice, "sex?"

She leaned in conspiratorially. "I have toys."

"But is that really enough?" He smirked.

"They're good toys."

"Okay, um. What about having someone's hot bod to look at?" He struck a slight pose.

"Have you heard of the internet? Besides, I have one of my own." She posed back.

"What about someone to visit you in the hospital?"

"Close friends, remember?"

"Right. Um, someone to tell you how you look in new clothes?"

"Mirrors."

"A second opinion on decor choices?"

"Mine's good enough."

He sighed and leaned against the wall. "I guess you really don't need a boyfriend."

"Nope," she said. "Sounds like you could use one, though."