We met in a very dark and gloomy place called "Flippers". It smelled of cheese and regret. Amongst the terrible vibe and equally worse people emerged two people who would inevitably fall in love. :)

I fell in love with a guy name Porkchop (AKA Chuleta) :) I had just started my first job at a pizzeria, and as fate would have it, my trainer was this super cute guy. The only problem? I knew absolutely nothing about pizza. Being the nerd that I am, I studied the entire menu—even Googling what gorgonzola was—just so I wouldn’t embarrass myself in front of him. Every shift, he made me laugh, and soon enough, we were both looking forward to coming to work just to spend more time together. One day, during our usual race to finish an order, I desperately needed ranch dressing. That’s when Jon asked for my phone number in exchange for it! I blushed, obviously said yes, and—because I was totally dumb in love—scribbled it down as fast as I could on the nearest napkin (instead of just putting it in his phone like a normal person). Of course, I was so nervous that I wrote the last number wrong. But Jon didn’t give up. He tracked down my number through a coworker, and when he finally called, we discovered something incredible: my number was from Fayetteville, North Carolina—the first place I lived when I moved to the U.S. from Venezuela. And as fate would have it, Fayetteville was also Jon’s hometown. Let me tell you, nobody is ever from Fayetteville! It felt like the universe had brought us together for a reason. And now, here we are, six years later, still laughing, still in love, and about to get married. It turns out, we were always meant to find each other.

I took her to a pretty gnarly punk show. Enjoying the company of friends and family, the sunshine, and absolutely zero alcohol. Waited until our favorite band was about to play and asked the lady that was wearing seven hats if she wanted to spend her life with me.

Jon's Version is the only accurate and real version of this story. (and I said YESS!) <3