Binge and Purge 2004

March 30, 2004 | 10:12pm

"You're cute. Are you gay? You're not like all the others — you're masculine. I like masculine. Seriously, you're not one of those San Francisco types..." Colorado takes notice of us as we invade the mile high city. The previous quote belongs to the hot boy wearing the Deftones t-shirt; his name is Oz. Merce, Michael, and I try to fit in but how could we when we were obviously born to stand out? After Oz mentions San Francisco types (I'm not really sure what that means), he tells me he has a loft downtown. Great, can't wait!

The bathroom at the club is nice, a man hands out towels and takes the rest of my tip money. I need change. I walk out and I'm stopped by a beautiful brown eyed/dark haired, muscle boy about my height. "Are you Lonnie?" Oh my god! How the fuck does he know me? I'm in f'ing Colorado for god's sake! "We were in Natural Helpers remember?"

Natural Helpers was a program put together by our high school. Kids would write down names of the people they go to for help, advice, or just someone they know would listen. If your name got flagged enough times, they would send you to a retreat to hone your mediation skills.

I'm not sure if it worked or not, I'm more of a media whore now. I do remember that Jason was my roommate. "Lonnie, I didn't know you were gay. We could have been making out the whole weekend." Aw, New Mexican boys, they all think the same way. They all want to get their "mac on." And yes, they use that phrase.

Earlier in the evening I had to go home to pick up my phone charger before I boarded the plane. By going home, I had a chance to make my first idiot mistake of the weekend. I picked up my phone charger and left my phone somewhere in my house — what a dumbass.
Jason asks for my phone number. I give it to him, but I tell him to call it and leave his number. He calls it and hangs up; I ask him call again.

"It's okay, you have caller ID right?"

"Yes, but my phone's at home." I try to explain without sounding like a total loser, and he walks away.

"Call me!" He yells and then disappears into the crowd. I mumble some superlatives and then see Oz again. We dance for a while and chat until the club closes.

Sorry, kids, I don't go home with Oz. We end up at watching the finale of America's Next Top Model at Patrick's (a friend of our host) house. We have a theme for the weekend remember? I can't just ditch my friends for some (plural) cute boys. We're serious models here.

It's 3:30am and we're eating Totito's Pizza and yelling at the TV over Shandi's dismissal and Yoanna's big win. The girl's got amazing cheek bones but she's still a fattie. And by fattie we mean a size two.

I sleep on the floor in the kitchen. It's cold, I'm shivering and a rubenesque cat named Cleo stares at me all night from a kitchen chair two feet from my head. I don't sleep much before 7am when I decide to start day two of Binge and Purge 2004.