Taxi Taxi

If you live in the suburbs and go downtown on the weekends to get incredibly drunk there is four possible ways to get home:

1) you're waiting for hours for the train
2) you steal a bike somewhere and cycle if you remember the way home
3) you walk for hours, or
4) you catch a cab.

The fourth one is certainly the fastest and most comfortable option, but usually it fails because you spent all your money on your level of drunkenness.

In this case, the four guys managed to raise the money altogether - that does not mean they were any less drunk. The smallest of them sat in the front seat while in his singing-and-clapping-his-hands-mood. Daniel, who was the most shitfaced sat right behind the cabdriver.

You know what HAD to happen: Daniel was leaning against the front seat and tried to stare at one point on the floor. He became so pale, that you couldn't see any of his freckles which normally cover his entire body.

Michael, who sat right next to him, put it like that: "... and then it began..." Daniel was throwing up - not out of the window, but right behind the driver's seat. I have to note that I never met anyone who pukes with such a noise level. Sounds diverge between gagging, choking and moaning.

The problem is: if you puke into a German E-Class cab with leather interior and all that stuff, you have to pay something around 500 bucks for professional cleaning. When Michael saw that awful event right next to him, he immediately started clapping and singing louder than everybody else and advised the cab driver to turn the music up.

Just imagine it: A cab with four guys pissed as hell and one of them puking in the back while the driver is happy and humming to the music and having a good time.

When they arrived, they paid, tipped regularly and went off. Michael even ran after the cab because he forgot his gloves and wished the driver a good night.