We can’t wait to celebrate with you! If you’d like to help us keep the good times flowing, bring along a bottle of your favorite wine, spirit, or bubbly. We’ll raise a glass and toast to you for years to come!

In August of 2021, just before the start of the semester, Arizona State University was buzzing with excitement. It was my first time in Arizona, and everything was new—new place, new school, and new people. ASU was hosting its annual fall concert to kick off the semester, and I decided to go with a few friends I had just met. None of us had known each other for more than a few hours, but in that moment, we were each other’s people. Meanwhile, John-Anthony and his group of friends were also preparing for the evening—but with a slightly different mission. They weren’t just attending the concert; they were recruiting. Their goal? Find as many people (girls) as possible to come back to their apartment for an after-party. Fast forward to later that night, post-concert. My friends and I were driving down Rural, trying to figure out our next move, when we hit a red light. Suddenly, I noticed a guy two lanes over yelling out of a car window toward us. I couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying, but I wasn’t about to let some random guy yell from across traffic. So, I yelled back: “If you want to talk to us, then get out of your car and come speak to us.” To my shock, the guy listened (shocker). Just as he got to the window of my car, the light turned green. His friends drove off without him, and suddenly—this man, who none of us had seen before—was sitting in my car. His name was Damon. We pulled over at the nearest liquor store to reunite Damon with his friends, exchanged numbers, and before we knew it, my friends and I were heading to their apartment. When we arrive, there are many girls and very girlie drinks like Hypnotic and Pink Whitney. Not a huge fan. I made my way to the couch and sat down next to a guy who introduced himself as “JAG.” This was one of Damon's roommates. Now, where I’m from, that nickname means something else. I raised an eyebrow and said, “You let people call you that?” He laughed and assured me it was just his initials—John-Anthony Gonzales. Fair enough. From there, conversation was so natural and easygoing. The kind of easy, effortless conversation you don’t expect to have at a party filled with strange girls and pink liquor. Later that night, a bunch of us ended up outside by the hot tub. My friends and I dipped our feet in while John-Anthony chilled in a lawn chair nearby. At some point, my new friends—people I had met just that day—started trauma-dumping, and I decided it was time for a break. My jeans had gotten wet from the hot tub, so I turned to John-Anthony and asked if I could borrow a pair of shorts. We go to his room where he gives me the ugliest pair of basketball shorts. He told me he wanted them back—which was clearly a lie. No one wants those shorts back. Hours somehow flew by, and we capped off the night at Denny’s. Before the sun came up, we had exchanged social media handles. About a week later, I returned the ugly shorts—and while I was at it, "strongly suggested" donating some of his more “questionable” clothing. To my surprise, he laughed, took it in stride, and even seemed to enjoy the critique. From that point on, a real friendship began to blossom. We weren’t dating, not yet—but we built something meaningful from the start. We planned monthly hangouts, FaceTimed regularly, and stressed over school. It wasn’t always butterflies or grand gestures—it was showing up, making time, and being present for each other. Looking back now, it feels like the universe had a plan—and it involved a red light, a random roommate, and some ugly basketball shorts.