“What the fuckity, Josh? You didn’t feel the slightest urge to mention the ‘YOLO’ tattoo on your ass cheek when I was going on and on about how ‘YOLO’ tattoos are social suicide?”
We’re sitting in our underwear on Josh’s bed, macking down on double cheeseburgers, fries, and Moscow mules from room service, laughing hysterically and involuntarily wiggling our bodies to the beat of the disco song blaring on Josh’s laptop (“You Dropped a Bomb on Me” by The Gap Band, which Josh says is now his official theme song).
“How the heck did you manage to keep quiet about your tattoo? That must have taken Herculean willpower.”
“Meh, I figured it’d be best for you to find out about it exactly the way you did—by seeing my ass in all its glory after I’d fucked you.” He smiles wickedly. “So much more fun than justtellingyou about it. Am I right?” He chomps a French fry.
I laugh. “Why thehelldo you have ‘YOLO’ stamped on your ass cheek, Josh? It’s inexcusable. Seriously, if I had any self-respect whatsoever, I’d grab my shit and go.”
He laughs. “I lost a bet.” He takes a big bite of his burger.
“What?” I shriek.
“I lost a bet,” he mumbles, his mouth full of burger.
“Well, what was the freaking bet?”
He finishes chewing. “See, that’s the thing. I don’t remember exactly.”
“What?” I shriek. “You got ‘YOLO’ tattooed onto your ass-cheek and you don’t even knowwhy?”
“Well, I knowwhy—generally speaking. The bet was over a quote fromHappy Gilmore. I just can’t rememberwhichquote we were arguing over.”
I smack my forehead with my palm. “Please tell me you’re kidding. You got YOLO inked onto your ass over a quote fromHappy Gilmore?”
Josh laughs and turns off the blaring disco song. He looks at his laptop for a moment, searching for something. “Oh, this is a good one. Listen to this—Jonas turned me on to these guys.” An acoustic guitar suddenly fills the room. “X Ambassadors. ‘Renegades.’”
“Yeah, great song,” I say. “You were about to tell me howHappy Gilmoreled to your tragic ass-tattoo.”
He shrugs. “It’s embarrassing.”
“All the more reason to tell me.”
He rolls his eyes. “It was when I was at UCLA, when I lived in my fraternity house. A group of us used to say ‘YOLO’ all the time, laughing our asses off about it, thinking we totally made it up. And, hell, maybe we did, for all I know—several years later, Zac Efron got ‘YOLO’ tattooed on his hand and my friends and I texted each other like crazy about it, like, ‘Did you see Zac Efron stole our thing, man? We came up with that years ago!’ And, then Drake claimed he invented it in a song, and Reed was like, ‘Yeah, that’s ’cause the fucker came to my house for a fucking party and we were all saying it!’”
I laugh. “You guys started a trend.”
“That’s what cool kids do, baby.” He winks.
“But that doesn’t excuse you getting it stamped onto your ass, Josh Faraday. That’s just inexcusable. Seriously.”
He chuckles.
“Please explain this horrifying tragedy to me.”
He laughs gleefully. “Well, like I say, ‘YOLO’ was kind of a thing with my friends and me, but only because we thought it was super douchey and hilarious and stupid. And one night at the house I was drinking beer with Henn and Reed and a few other guys and we were throwing out movie quotes and guessing the movie, as one does, and Henn threw out some quote fromHappy Gilmore.I was like, ‘Dude, no, you’ve got it wrong.’ And he was like, ‘No, dude, I have it exactly right.’ And I was like, ‘No, no, man, it’sthis.’ And he was like, ‘No, man, it’s definitely this other thing.’ And I was like, ‘I loveyou, man, like a brother, but you’re wrong as shit.’ So we went around and around, both of us positive we were one-hundred-percent right, until finally Reed said, ‘Okay, dudes, put your money where your mouth is. Whoever’s wrong has to get ‘YOLO’ inked onto his ass.’ Well, everyone in the room lost his shit. For some reason, that was the funniest idea we’d ever heard. So, of course, I was like, ‘Hell yeah. I’m in, motherfucker.’ Because the chance to saddle Henn with a fucking ‘YOLO’ tattoo, and on hisasscheekno less, for eternity, was too good to pass up. And I guess Henn was thinking the same exact thing about me, so he was like, ‘Boo-fucking-yah.’ So we shook on it and then Reed put on a DVD ofHappy Gilmoreand found the scene with the quote, whatever it was, and,motherfucker, Henn was exactly right.”
For a long beat, I’m laughing too hard to speak and Josh is right there with me.
“That’s just... insane,” I finally choke out. “What a horrible, horrible reason to get YOLO stamped on your ass.”
“Could there possibly be a good reason?”
I consider. “Yes. If Make-A-Wish called and asked you to do it for some poor kid with cancer. That’s literally the only defensible reason to get a ‘YOLO’ tattoo anywhere on your body.”
Josh laughs. “But, see, the thing is I never go back on my word—no matter what. We went out that very night to a tattoo place in Hollywood and I did it.” He chuckles to himself, seemingly at a memory. “Henn and Reed were laughing so hard the whole time, they wound up on the floor of the place, sobbing like little girls.”
“Well, I hope it was worth it,” I say. “Because you’ve got that horrible thingforever,Josh.”
