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Had delicious (read: expensive) Korean BBQ last night for a girl’s birthday. She got too drunk at the club and puked it all up on the taxi ride home. Ya know, because she’s classy like that. As I patiently waited in the taxi listening to her vomit, the only thing I imagined coming out of her mouth was money. When she finished I told her to not puke in the taxi, wished her a goodnight, and headed home. There’s only so much I can put up with, and a girl puking up an expensive dinner in a taxi is where I draw the line.