Why some random Brit has my name tattooed on his ass

Ok, so my memories so nicely reminded me that six years ago today I was waking up in Kavos, Corfu, from a very heavy night of drinking, my friend Maggie had candle wax all over her and a half eaten Kebab in her hand and I was still fully clothed, shoes and all and a picture on my phone of some random British dude who decided to get mine and Maggie’s name with an American flag tatted right onto his ass. Yes, it was permanent.

I’ll will tell you this story because so many people haven’t heard it and it is such a classic. But I will preface it by saying that Maggie and I were a lot younger, we had no money, we saved all our money for booze instead of food and we just did everything with no plan. Although we are grown up and much more responsible, Maggie is engaged and has a real job and I’m, well, I’m me, Maggie did give me permission to tell you the full unedited version of this story. Mom and grandma, I promise we will never do any of this again.

So here it goes.

Maggie and I had been living in Florence, Italy for the past six months, we decided to embark on this incredible backpacking trip with no backpacks and no money. But hey, we were young, we thought it would be fun and it sure as hell was.

We booked a ticket on Ryan Air for 25Euro to this random place in Greece called Kavos. I had been to the island of Corfu, Greece before on a cruise so I assured Maggie it would be very calm and relaxing beach vacation.

Boy, was I wrong.

Kavos is a hub for British tourist to come on vacation, get wicked drunk (there words no mine) and just blow all their money, get jobs for the summer and just live it up. It was honestly like walking down the strip of Downtown Orlando in the middle of a busy Friday night at all hours of the day.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself.

We landed and hopped on a bus to our Airbnb and walked through this town, it was a ghost tow, we were so concerned that we ended up in one of those weird towns that everyone just disappeared all at once but we were quickly greeted by our host so we knew there were a few people.

She informed us that the town just “opened” yesterday so we came just in time.

Yeah, what the hell does “the town just opened mean?” It means that everything is closed until June 1 and then all the British crazy people get here and the bars open.

We assured her we were good girls who did not party and were just hear to lay on the beach…I think we believed that at the time honestly.

So we changed into our bathing suits and walked through the town. We found a place to book a cool snorkel trip and a cabana to have some drinks. When the bartender came over to us we ordered two mojitos and he looked at us like we had four heads.

“Are you American?!” He was so excited but almost scared at the same time and Maggie and I looked at each other, both very hesitant to reply. If we were going to lie and say we were Canadian now was the time. But we didn’t. We said “Yepp! From Florida!”

“DISNEY WORLD!” Yeah, the same response we always get. “Drinks are on me!”

……We have no money so we are obviously going to take these drinks with no questions asked.

Up until this point when someone heard we were American they immediately want to talk about guns and whats it like to have guns, or they ask you why you live there, or something super rude that makes you just want to say, just kidding I’m Canadian. So this response was definitely different.

We got up to go change for dinner, we had seen a great little restaurant around the corner that we wanted to try.

When we walked through the streets people were whispering and pointing at us. This is not a joke, people were LITERALLY pointing at us and then running to another bar and whispering something and then more heads would turn.

We are not shy girls, we immediately asked one of the people what their problem was and they said “We haven’t had an American here for four years.”

The minute we asked these bar reps were on us, bribing us with free drinks left and right trying to get the American girls to come into their bar.

One guy steps in front of us and says “If you come back I will get your names tattooed on my ass with an American flag.”

Well obviously we were going to that bar.

We went to dinner and raced back to this bar that I cannot remember the name of for the life of me, we were handed two drinks and two shots and this kid comes running up to us, pulls his pants down to his ankles and shows us his whole ass. Right there on the right cheek was an American flag with our names on it.

He spelled mine wrong but it’s his own fault cause he didn’t wait for us.

Yes, this was the first day we were there. And it got even crazier.

We immediately fell into this crazy Kavos lifestyle, drinking for free because we were famous apparently.

The next morning, hangovers in tow, we drug ourselves out to the dock to catch the snorkel trip we booked when we thought this was still a relaxing beach trip.

Don’t worry, the boat tour people had heard about us, the other tourists on the boat had heard about us, and the drinks start flowing, everyone had brought their own alcohol and the boat had wine and next think you know we are jumping off the boat into the water and I’m pretty sure no one snorkeled.

We get back to the dock and people are waiting for us at the docks, a group of 5 kids our age heard we would be getting back and were waiting to take us to the next bar.

But, I needed a power nap.

We went back to the airbnb and I laid down.

I should probably mention at this time we had bought a bottle of vodka and thing of orange juice for our room to save money and we hadn’t even opened it yet.

Maggie did not take a nap.

She poured out half the orange juice and put the vodka in the bottle and sat outside, near a candle (that is important keep the candle in mind) and drank her very intense screw driver.

I woke up a little bit later, still very much intoxicated, and Maggie hands me a glass of orange juice, so nice of her to help me wake up a little.

You guessed it, it was not orange juice at all, it was her very strong concoction of OJ and vodka and she was hammered and she wanted a damn kebab really freaking bad.

Another thing I should mention is drunk Maggie in Europe did not like me, she thought I was trying to take away her fun and in her words “ruin her moment” and we were at this point.

I needed to get up and we were going to get a kebab.

She makes me drink the rest of the bottle and we hit the town. We went from bar to bar looking for a kebab, even though there was a kebab place right next to our house. Our friend with the tattoo stopped us and bought us drinks and we circled the whole town before we got back to the kebab place.

We ordered two kebabs and took one bite and it fell right into my lap. Maggie begins to try to put it back together and then looks down at her cardigan. Remember the candle? She had candle wax all over her!

“You got it on my cardigan! I knew you hated me! I can’t believe you did that.” going on and on about how much she hates me, gets up, and starts to run away from me.

Now, I have a couple drunk alter egos and the one that came out that night, lucky for us, was overprotective mother. I go running after her trailing kebab the entire way.

We make it back to the airbnb and the lights are out.

The next morning maggie is looking at her cardigan with such sad eyes, we realize then it is not kebab, it is candle wax. We look out over our balcony and the woman who owns the house is scraping candle wax off of the table!

We walk out to get breakfast and she shakes her head at us “can you believe how crazy some of these people get, you girls have been so nice and quiet, come back any time.”

This would have been the time to come clean but we definitely did not, we just smiled and nodded and ran to get some food in our stomachs.

We came back to our room that looked like a bomb exploded, packed up our things and got the hell out of that town!

When we got back to Florence we needed about five cheeseburgers, a million gallons of water and we slept for probably three days straight.

But some guy has our names tattooed on our ass and there is picture hanging in the bar as “The Favorite Americans” and if you know us they’ll give you a screwdriver.

The end.