Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!The anthology Girls Who Like Boys Who Like Boys—about gays and the girls who love them— was feted last night at a Midtown East bar, one of those places that you go to after your long, hard day working as a commodities trader, unbutton an extra button on your blue Oxford shirt, and drink yourself into a stupor. And if you're lucky, maybe grope a skank or three. What an odd place to have a party for the gays, as our photographer Nikola Tamindzic and I found out.

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

Gay Book Party Turns Surprisingly Catty!

As we went upstairs, we found that everyone there was like the gay version of the straight guys downstairs. True, maybe they were wearing a purple shirt instead of a blue one, and maybe their hair had a little more product in it (but honestly, not much!), and perhaps they'd spent an extra 15 minutes at the gym, but really, the differences were academic.

One of the editors of the anthology is the dandyish author Tom Dolby (the other is the scarily prolific Melissa de la Cruz, whose next series. "The Ashleys," sounds like a Heathers ripoff, but who's counting?), whose highly decorated West Village apartment was the subject of a story in the New York Times last year. At the time, he told the writer, "People say I'm the gay Candace Bushnell," and last evening, it did seem as though the party could have taken place in some parallel gay Carrie Bradshaw universe. I asked him what he thought of the term fag hag, because honestly, isn't that what we're talking about here? "I think it's fine if it's mentioned in an endearing way," Mr. Dolby said. His friend Zach Udko, who wrote an essay for the book about his mother, said, "My mom hates it. I prefer gal pal—I call her my gal pal." (You say tomato....)

Later, I ran into the ex-boyfriend—we'll call him Brian!—of a gay friend of mine. I hadn't seen him since they broke up, except that one awkward time when they were at a post-breakup brunch in my neighborhood and I had to make small talk over their untouched scones. "Hiiiiiiii!" he said, giving me a huge embrace and introducing me to his friend, who had his arm around him. Then he told me that Zach, the guy who had just been talking to nicely to me, hated my friend because he had gone on a date with him, but my friend hadn't liked him, and liked Brian instead, and then later, when I saw Zach, he gave me the death stare. Whatever, high school!