There's an old joke about a guy coming home late from a poker game to find his hideous harpy of a wife waiting for him with a rolling pin. She demands to know where the hell he's been, and he tells her she'll have to pack all of her things because he just lost her in a card game.
"How could you manage to do such a thing?" she screams.
"It wasn't easy, dear," he replies. "I had to fold a royal flush."
It's a funny joke, but absurd fantasy, right? Maybe not, because earlier this year there were two separate reports, both apparently true, about females being gambled away in poker games.
The first story originated in a London metro newspaper. It told of a gambler from Murmansk, Russia, Andrei Karpov, who ran out of cash in a poker game and offered his wife to an opponent to stay in the game. He lost to Sergey Brodov, and when he showed up to claim his prize, Karpov's wife, Tatiana, was so angry, she filed for divorce.
"It was humiliating, and I was utterly ashamed," she was later quoted as saying. (I wonder why?) "But as soon as my ex-husband did that, I knew I had to leave him."
This story had a happy ending, though. She began a relationship with Brodov and eventually married him. "Sergey is a very handsome, charming man, and I am happy with him, even if he did win me in a poker game," she said.
Amazing. All of those poker game shows turn cartwheels looking for gimmicks to make the action more interesting, and this real-life incident tops them all. As Big Denny is fond of saying, "Truth is stranger than friction."
The second incident happened in Hyderabad, Pakistan. The Reuters news agency reported that a teenage girl named Rasheeda was lost by her late father in a poker game when she was 2 years old. Now, at age 17, she was asking authorities to save her from being handed over to a middle-aged relative.
Her mother said her husband racked up a debt of 10,000 rupees ($151) to Lal Haider while playing cards, didn't have money to pay, and instead told his opponent that he could take Rasheeda when she grew up (the Pakistani version of picking up your marker). The mother added that Haider was paid last year, but still insisted the girl should be given to him because of tribal customs. Both families belong to the same tribe in Baluchistan. Apparently, Haider wants to donate Rasheeda to his son in marriage. The tribal elders have ruled that she should be turned over, but the cops have assured the girl that it won't happen.
Hey, why don't they just call a floorman for a decision?
After reading the two stories, I tried to think of some way I could stage a similar incident to get material for a column. Who, I wondered, would be so desperate for female companionship that the only way he could do so would be to win a woman in a poker game? The obvious answer was Ralph the Rattler. He is so repugnant that even the floozies from Vegas escort services refuse to go out with him. He once paid for a wife from one of those online dating services that sell Russian women who will do anything to escape their oppressive country and live in the U.S. The woman he bought was named Nadia Kamarahorseface. Despite her glowing description by the dating service, she turned out to be so ugly that she was held in quarantine for two weeks when she landed in this country. Even so, she took one look at her fiancé, decided that living in abject poverty in Russia was preferable to sharing a bed with such a reptile, and spent her last rubles to grab the first flight home.
Therefore, when I told the Rattler that for a mere $1,000 I could find him a desirable female, he eagerly agreed. The only woman I could think of who would consent to even be seen with Ralph would be Michael Wiesenberg's Aunt Sophie. I contacted Michael and offered him $50 to lose his beloved aunt in a poker game. He was outraged. "Make it $75 minimum," he insisted.
The deal was set. Next, I phoned the Barstow Card Casino, where Aunt Sophie was employed as a cocktail waitress. Big Denny was happy to go along for a cut of the action. "Losin' dat dame won't be no problem," he said. "She's already driven off half my customers."
The next weekend, I suggested to the Rattler that we drive up to Barstow for some poker. Big Denny got him seated at the table where Wiesenberg was playing. When the two eventually got heads up in a pot, the crooked dealer made sure that the Rattler had a nut hand on the river. With his trademark wail of, "I guess you got me," he moved all in.
Michael shook his head. "I'd love to call you," he said, "but I don't have enough money. How about if I instead put up my Aunt Sophie? She's a real hottie."
Ralph was dubious until Wiesenberg assured him that he was her guardian and it was all legal. The Rattler nodded in agreement and turned over his straight flush, whereupon a band struck up, a huge wedding cake was wheeled in, and Aunt Sophie popped out of it wearing a corset and fishnet stockings, her sagging boobs hanging down to her knees.
"I'm all yours, Ralphie dollink," she called out, waving her arms in her best Marilyn Monroe imitation.
The Rattler stared at Aunt Sophie in horror, grabbed his chest, and keeled over. The paramedics had to be called, and they eventually revived him with mouth-to-fang resuscitation. Everything turned out OK, though. The Rattler gladly forked over another $1,000 in return for being let out of the deal, Aunt Sophie was given a paid leave of absence while Denny recouped some of his lost business, and I recently learned that things are also looking up again for the Rattler. He's been corresponding with a woman living in a leper colony in India, and they may very well get together - providing he doesn't send her his picture first.
Max Shapiro, a lifelong poker player and former newspaper reporter with several writing awards to his credit, has been writing a humor column for Card Player ever since it was launched 20 years ago. His early columns were collected in his book, Read 'em and Laugh.
