There was Big Jo.

Which was a hilarious name for someone so small, probably named for having a big attitude like a pack of firecrackers. Vibe like a chihuahua in a Hawaiian shirt. Mirrored aviators on all night. From the off, Jo broke out insanely tasty, tropical Margarita flavors that were, frankly, better than any drink at the neighborhood bar.

There was Vyv.

Style I’d call New York City by way of Montego Bay: Mohawk, crazy colors, DJ headphones, ready to drop the perfect mix—of music, and of smooth, bright, tangy Long Island Iced Tea flavors.

When you find yourself at sunrise, showering with your socks on, thank Vyv. Vyv’s rocket fuel was a total blast that no one expected—and everyone was buzzing about.

Zeke was the Mai Tai guy.

Zeke was the Mai Tai guy. Lovable Lounge lizard in Tahiti wear with a gold medallion, barstool professor with stories that always seem to involve some harmless… let’s say… shenanigans.

Sweetheart through and through, though—warm pineapple vibes. Zeke was the cherry on top the festivities.

There was Dee.

Total badass that crept in like a panther, peering over the top of tinted shades, gold rope draped over green and red flowered shirt-and-shorts set. We bumped fists and he cracked open a drink I never would have expected—I haven’t had anything like a strawberry daiquiri since my last all-inclusive vacation.

But I’m not gonna lie, Dee’s daiquiri flavor is my new go-to.

There was Cooper.

Cooper was a walking, squawking contradiction. A pink flamingo in black leather gear who rolled in not on a chopper, but on a classic Italian scooter, then slid us his signature drink with unbelievably rich Black Cherry Martini flavor. It was deliciously unexpected—equal parts style and kick that left us wondering at the end of the night how Cooper was still balancing on one leg.