Poker Hall of Shame V

Next time poker-playing drecksack Sascha Cornils does a web search on his name, he will undoubtedly come across this post. It will be a sombre reminder how a lapse in judgement, laced with a dose of obnoxious immaturity, will come back to haunt him as long as the internet is accessible to mankind. And without further ado, here is the mother of all slowrolls :

Live poker

$1-$2 NLHE at the Venetian. A well-dressed businessman is on my left, with an older retiree on my right. Both obviously have thrown common decency and hygienic etiquette to the wind by sitting at the table with heavy colds or flu. They are both nasally congested and their loud snorting and sniffling is accompanied by the soft sound of swallowing. I find it difficult to drink my tea, even though I am not that sensitive.

I am tempted to bring a box of tissues from the main podium but instead order 2 cokes and wait. Businessman is just taking his first sip of a Strawberry Julius when I turn slightly toward him and let out a firm, prolonged belch. He appears shocked but I still maintain eye contact. I repeat the same with retiree, only twice. Both leave within a few minutes of my onslaught. I apologize to the table but there is no need.