Most Disgusting Poker Story (1 Viewer)

pltrgyst

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The latest from Paul Harris (disk jockey, poker player, buddy of Dennis Phillips -- http://www.harrisonline.com):

Most Disgusting Poker Story

Jul 17, 2018 | Poker/Vegas

I’m happy whenever there’s table talk at a poker table, unless it’s about politics or religion, which devolve too quickly into heated disagreements and an ugly tone. Otherwise, the topics can vary widely, from a sporting event on a nearby TV to a recent road trip to the hand that won the bad beat jackpot last week. Quite often, someone will tell a story that reminds someone else of a related story that reminds yet another person of something similar, and before long, we’re all involved.

That’s what happened the other night when someone told a tale about the most disgusting thing he’d seen at a poker table. It involved a guy who took off his sandals, propped a foot up on the table, and proceeded to cut his toenails. I’m all for maintaining good grooming, but that’s the sort of thing best taken care of in the sanctity of your own home, not in public.

Next, someone brought up an experience we’ve all had — sitting next to a player who stinks. I don’t mean they’re bad at poker. I mean they’re bad at hygiene, as though they avoid soap and water the way an Orthodox Jew avoids a ham sandwich. Like Pig-Pen in the Peanuts cartoons, they must not be aware of the stench surrounding them, although everyone else is. This is particularly a problem in tournaments, where you’re assigned a seat and have to stay in it until your table breaks or you’re eliminated, while in cash games, you can get up and move to an open seat at your table or to another game, if necessary, to avoid an olfactory assault.

About five years ago, I complained to a floor supervisor about the insultingly aromatic guy next to me. Fortunately, the floor man knew how to handle this tactfully, asking Pepe Le Pew to step away from the game for a conversation that resulted in him picking up his chips and leaving the casino. The dealer, who was in the other chair adjacent to the offender, leaned over and thanked me, saying he had been breathing through one side of his mouth because of the stench.

But neither of those comes close to the most disgusting thing I’ve witnessed at a poker game.

In the early years of this century, before the no-limit-hold-em boom began, the wildest games in St. Louis were limit-hold-em with $20/40 stakes at the President Casino on The Admiral, a big ship converted to a full-time casino and docked permanently next to the Gateway Arch. The $20/40 game went on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays, with a smaller $15/30 game on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It was not unusual to have four tables running with a long list, particularly on the weekends. The games were ultra-juicy, and I was there at least three nights a week.

One of the players was a crusty old SOB named Eddie, the kind of guy who hadn’t been happy since the doctor slapped him on the day he was born. Eddie complained regularly about everything, including the fact that he never won. One of the other players, Tony (at the time arguably the best poker player in town) encouraged Eddie’s sour demeanor by requesting the seat next to him and then mumbling things that Eddie couldn’t quite hear, which only irritated him even more. Because he had bad eyesight, Eddie refused to sit in an end seat and would berate anyone who didn’t let him sit closer to the center. Because we wanted Eddie in the game (for his chips, not his attitude), most of us accommodated him by letting him take either the one seat or the ten seat, putting him on either side of the dealer.

On the night in question, Eddie had been there for an hour or two, grumbling and losing. Suddenly, the woman who was dealing jumped up and shouted very loudly, “What the hell?” This got the attention of everyone in the room, which instantly went silent. Horrified, she looked down at the floor, then at Eddie, as she yelled at him, “Did you just piss on me?”

Sure enough, rather than get up and go to the men’s room to relieve himself, Eddie had unzipped under the table, pulled out his junk, and released a stream of urine onto the floor — and the dealer’s leg. He tried to deny it, but there was no other possible explanation. Besides, the jerk’s fly was still open.

Put yourself in this woman’s place. All she did that day was go to work, hoping to earn enough tips to make the job worthwhile . On occasion, she might have to put up with a player berating her over a bad beat or for other reasons (read my earlier piece for examples), but there was usually no physical risk in tossing cards and pushing chips. She certainly didn’t expect some guy to spray his liquid waste on her leg!

As the dealer continued to yell at Eddie, two floor guys and a security officer ran over, heard her explanation for the ruckus, and immediately escorted Eddie out of the room and off the boat, never to return. Then they told us that the game could not continue at that table because the whole area had to be cleaned. Fortunately, there was an empty one not far away, so we all moved there — except for the dealer, who went to get the Essence Of Eddie off her pants, shoes, and skin, and then fill out some paperwork. She didn’t return for the rest of her shift, but was back a couple of days later, when her shift was filled with poker players commiserating with her over what had happened.
Naturally, even before the advent of social media, the news of the incident spread through the St. Louis poker community within minutes. Almost as quickly, the gallows humor kicked in:
  • “The flop and turn were fine, but the river was really bad!”
  • “I’ve seen a dealer put out a wet board, but that’s ridiculous!”
  • “I’m wearing boots when I play from now on!”
And, of course, this:
  • “I’ve seen people pissed off at a poker table, but never pissed on!”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
man I got absolutely nothing to top those stories . . . unreal . . . I may have to sit in a dark room and meditate to clear my mind now.
 
Lol, no joke??
It's a much better story than that. He had a prop bet with millionaire Bill Perkins. The bet was that for the duration of the two day tournament, Antonio had to lunge everywhere - every step he took had to be a full lunge. I think the bet was for $50K, and Antonio, who refuses no bets, figured it was simple - if he ever got to the point where he couldn't lunge, he could just sit where he was, wait for the day to end, and win the bet.
During day two, he was sitting at the table and had to go to the bathroom, but his legs were so useless, he knew he couldn't. So he went.
https://www.pokernews.com/news/2016/01/antonio-esfandiari-to-donate-50000-to-charity-23798.htm
 
Wasn’t there a story about a prop bet at the AC Taj or Trop, involving Player 1 telling Player 2 that he could have as many filthy $5 chips from Player 1’s stack that Player 2 could fit in his mouth, and Player 2 then reached over and grabbed a handful of chips, shoved them in his mouth, swished them around and spit them out and added them to his stack?
 
The latest from Paul Harris (disk jockey, poker player, buddy of Dennis Phillips -- http://www.harrisonline.com):

Most Disgusting Poker Story

Jul 17, 2018 | Poker/Vegas

I’m happy whenever there’s table talk at a poker table, unless it’s about politics or religion, which devolve too quickly into heated disagreements and an ugly tone. Otherwise, the topics can vary widely, from a sporting event on a nearby TV to a recent road trip to the hand that won the bad beat jackpot last week. Quite often, someone will tell a story that reminds someone else of a related story that reminds yet another person of something similar, and before long, we’re all involved.

That’s what happened the other night when someone told a tale about the most disgusting thing he’d seen at a poker table. It involved a guy who took off his sandals, propped a foot up on the table, and proceeded to cut his toenails. I’m all for maintaining good grooming, but that’s the sort of thing best taken care of in the sanctity of your own home, not in public.

Next, someone brought up an experience we’ve all had — sitting next to a player who stinks. I don’t mean they’re bad at poker. I mean they’re bad at hygiene, as though they avoid soap and water the way an Orthodox Jew avoids a ham sandwich. Like Pig-Pen in the Peanuts cartoons, they must not be aware of the stench surrounding them, although everyone else is. This is particularly a problem in tournaments, where you’re assigned a seat and have to stay in it until your table breaks or you’re eliminated, while in cash games, you can get up and move to an open seat at your table or to another game, if necessary, to avoid an olfactory assault.

About five years ago, I complained to a floor supervisor about the insultingly aromatic guy next to me. Fortunately, the floor man knew how to handle this tactfully, asking Pepe Le Pew to step away from the game for a conversation that resulted in him picking up his chips and leaving the casino. The dealer, who was in the other chair adjacent to the offender, leaned over and thanked me, saying he had been breathing through one side of his mouth because of the stench.

But neither of those comes close to the most disgusting thing I’ve witnessed at a poker game.

In the early years of this century, before the no-limit-hold-em boom began, the wildest games in St. Louis were limit-hold-em with $20/40 stakes at the President Casino on The Admiral, a big ship converted to a full-time casino and docked permanently next to the Gateway Arch. The $20/40 game went on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays, with a smaller $15/30 game on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It was not unusual to have four tables running with a long list, particularly on the weekends. The games were ultra-juicy, and I was there at least three nights a week.

One of the players was a crusty old SOB named Eddie, the kind of guy who hadn’t been happy since the doctor slapped him on the day he was born. Eddie complained regularly about everything, including the fact that he never won. One of the other players, Tony (at the time arguably the best poker player in town) encouraged Eddie’s sour demeanor by requesting the seat next to him and then mumbling things that Eddie couldn’t quite hear, which only irritated him even more. Because he had bad eyesight, Eddie refused to sit in an end seat and would berate anyone who didn’t let him sit closer to the center. Because we wanted Eddie in the game (for his chips, not his attitude), most of us accommodated him by letting him take either the one seat or the ten seat, putting him on either side of the dealer.

On the night in question, Eddie had been there for an hour or two, grumbling and losing. Suddenly, the woman who was dealing jumped up and shouted very loudly, “What the hell?” This got the attention of everyone in the room, which instantly went silent. Horrified, she looked down at the floor, then at Eddie, as she yelled at him, “Did you just piss on me?”

Sure enough, rather than get up and go to the men’s room to relieve himself, Eddie had unzipped under the table, pulled out his junk, and released a stream of urine onto the floor — and the dealer’s leg. He tried to deny it, but there was no other possible explanation. Besides, the jerk’s fly was still open.

Put yourself in this woman’s place. All she did that day was go to work, hoping to earn enough tips to make the job worthwhile . On occasion, she might have to put up with a player berating her over a bad beat or for other reasons (read my earlier piece for examples), but there was usually no physical risk in tossing cards and pushing chips. She certainly didn’t expect some guy to spray his liquid waste on her leg!

As the dealer continued to yell at Eddie, two floor guys and a security officer ran over, heard her explanation for the ruckus, and immediately escorted Eddie out of the room and off the boat, never to return. Then they told us that the game could not continue at that table because the whole area had to be cleaned. Fortunately, there was an empty one not far away, so we all moved there — except for the dealer, who went to get the Essence Of Eddie off her pants, shoes, and skin, and then fill out some paperwork. She didn’t return for the rest of her shift, but was back a couple of days later, when her shift was filled with poker players commiserating with her over what had happened.
Naturally, even before the advent of social media, the news of the incident spread through the St. Louis poker community within minutes. Almost as quickly, the gallows humor kicked in:
  • “The flop and turn were fine, but the river was really bad!”
  • “I’ve seen a dealer put out a wet board, but that’s ridiculous!”
  • “I’m wearing boots when I play from now on!”
And, of course, this:
  • “I’ve seen people pissed off at a poker table, but never pissed on!”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The real question: was this just the first time he got caught? I hope they deep cleaned the entire room.

And anyone who owns PCA chips now can be somewhat concerned that a dude who whipped his junk out at the table probably handled some of their chips.
 
The real question: was this just the first time he got caught? I hope they deep cleaned the entire room.

And anyone who owns PCA chips now can be somewhat concerned that a dude who whipped his junk out at the table probably handled some of their chips.
Exactly what percentage of casino goers do you think wash their hands after using the restroom?
(I'd guess something like 50%)
 
It's more important health-wise to wash your hands before touching any part of yourself, after having handled public room chips....
 
OK, this dealer deserved a bigger tip.

Exactly what percentage of casino goers do you think wash their hands after using the restroom?
(I'd guess something like 50%)

I had the same thought. I'm afraid that black gunk isn't from hands. There are a few home games that have put in more hours (lifetime) of chip handling than any casino does in a few months. Even Puggy's chip shuffling experiment (back on CT where he tried to see how long it would take to shuffle chips thin) did not result in gunky chips.

No, the stuff on the chip may contain dead skin cells, but there is another, much darker and grosser adhesive in play. I like to think it's off a sandwich... but that's probably not it either - it just keeps me from playing, using latex gloves.
 
Sad thing is I've been in a few casinos where the reaction would likely be to tell the dealer to pipe down, change her pants and get back to work. And Eddie would be told not to return...for the rest of the day.
 
IDK the percentage of folks washing their hands but Harrah's Cherokee I would say each $5 chip had a different strain of flu virus. CDC would have a field day studying those chips.
 
Sad thing is I've been in a few casinos where the reaction would likely be to tell the dealer to pipe down, change her pants and get back to work. And Eddie would be told not to return...for the rest of the day.

If I witnessed a casino with that lax of a policy about pissing under the table, I would never return, I would spread the word, I would have videoed as much of the incident as possible, and would notify the Health department, OSHA, or whoever needed to close the place down.
 
If I witnessed a casino with that lax of a policy about pissing under the table, I would never return, I would spread the word, I would have videoed as much of the incident as possible, and would notify the Health department, OSHA, or whoever needed to close the place down.
Don't disagree with the sentiment...but talk to service workers in the hospitality industry sometime. The stories you'll hear will revolt you ... at least urine is generally sterile. Vomit and diarrhea are not. Dropping bags of heroin and fenttayl could kill someone but meh, go get the dustpan Bob.

I can tell you stories from the police world of arresting someone for committing a major felony in an establishment and as he's being hauled out the manager is chasing after him to give him a refund because company policy doesn't want any hard feelings. It's like "dude, he was carrying a gun and just slugged one of your bartenders!"
 
:wtf::wtf::wtf:
OK, this dealer deserved a bigger tip.



I had the same thought. I'm afraid that black gunk isn't from hands. There are a few home games that have put in more hours (lifetime) of chip handling than any casino does in a few months. Even Puggy's chip shuffling experiment (back on CT where he tried to see how long it would take to shuffle chips thin) did not result in gunky chips.

No, the stuff on the chip may contain dead skin cells, but there is another, much darker and grosser adhesive in play. I like to think it's off a sandwich... but that's probably not it either - it just keeps me from playing, using latex gloves.

Smegma :wtf:
 
The real question: was this just the first time he got caught? I hope they deep cleaned the entire room.

And anyone who owns PCA chips now can be somewhat concerned that a dude who whipped his junk out at the table probably handled some of their chips.

More reason to only buy mint
 
Casinos attract the nastiest losers...even the really nice establishments.

No story that tops that but I did experience this....

I was playing $3/6 limit Holdem at the Borgata the week it opened 15 years ago. Beautiful new casino and the clientel was definitely significantly nicer than other AC casinos. It’s still like that.

That said this older guy sits down with a plastic grocery bag full of chips... mostly $1s. He had some serious stank and was filthy looking. The dealer had to ask him two times to take the chips out of the bag.

He sat there for probably an hour and hardly played but occasionally broke out in a hacking coughing fit that would last 5-10 seconds. One coughing fit got pretty bad and he stood up from that table. He then proceeded to hack up what can only be described at baby spit up all down his arm and onto the floor. The dealer signaled a floor manager and he was removed. Nasty!
 
I’m upset that I cleaned those dirty pca chips by hand with no gloves.
 
More reason to only buy mint

Don't be fooled. Mint chips may have been somewhere too...
2016-11-10 12.24.04.jpg
 
I once hand-cleaned 2+ racks of nasty used PCA primary $25 chips.... and immediately decided that mint chips were they way to go for all future purchases.

I just keep them away from small children and Zombies. :)
 
Playing live in LV, sit down at a table, and there’s a player who is the poster child for the NyQuil cold/flu ads... he’s red nosed, looks sick, and is coughing and sneezing all over... I see him win a big pot, then right before scooping/dragging his chips, he sneezes (very obviously with discharge) into both his hands, then without skipping a beat, drags the chips back and starts to stack them up...

“table change”...
 
This weekend at @detroitdad's game, he had a new player, but one he had played with in card rooms in the past (he was not a total noob to card room/table etiquette).

I saw him with a couple of @detroitdad's Bourbon Basement chips in each hand. He picked them off his stack to bet and/or pulled them off the top of his call. Either way, when he had a "productive cough" (he's a smoker), he instinctively covered his mouth with his right hand in a fist... with a brown 25¢ BB chip inside his fist.

I was not in the pot, and I'm not sure that chip made it in the pot during that hand. But he went busto, so someone else definitely handled that chip.
 
This weekend at @detroitdad's game, he had a new player, but one he had played with in card rooms in the past (he was not a total noob to card room/table etiquette).

I saw him with a couple of @detroitdad's Bourbon Basement chips in each hand. He picked them off his stack to bet and/or pulled them off the top of his call. Either way, when he had a "productive cough" (he's a smoker), he instinctively covered his mouth with his right hand in a fist... with a brown 25¢ BB chip inside his fist.

I was not in the pot, and I'm not sure that chip made it in the pot during that hand. But he went busto, so someone else definitely handled that chip.

Gross, I was sitting next to him and heard his lungs a-gurgling a couple times.

A couple months ago in my basement a buzzed up guy nicknamed STD (Steve the Dentist local good guy) was summoned that it was on him while taking a wizz in my basement bathroom. He bolted back to the table with his pants halfway between his knees and waist, still unzipped. The player who summoned him asked if he washed his hands and he said yes. In reality he did not even flush but it became a pretty good joke along the lines of "Who doesn't wash their hands before they zip up and flush?" and "I can't wait to get that dentist's hands in my mouth!"
 

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