Cry me a river

It's been an awful drought--much longer than a player of my skill level should have to weather (get it? drought/weather?), but finally the cards went my way and I won a poker tourney today. I swear the number of times I am ahead in a hand only to be called outrageously by players with nothing but hope, only to lose it on the river is statistically impossible...exponentially, statistically impossible. There is something else at play. After months of pain-staking investigation, intense scrutiny, thorough examination, in-depth computer analysis, and losing tens of dollars, it turns out there's a simple explanation:

Odd News

A New York City man who was forced to leave a casino because patrons complained to staff has filed a complaint about his treatment with the Casino Control Commission. The man was followed into the restroom by a poker room manager and was told of the complaints from other gamblers. The stinky guy returned to his table but was asked to leave.

I don't know about you, but if in a bizarro world I was a 54 year old, 440 pound person who was gambling for 17 hours straight and I was told discreetly that half the casino was vomiting from the odour emanating from my body, the last thing I would do is go back to my seat to face my accusers. And if I had arrived by taxi, I would walk home, no matter how far, to avoid getting on a bus or into a cab near other people. What does this guy do? He makes a scene and then headlines with his antics. And now he demands an apology. You want an apology, Mr. Wax? We're sorry your B.O. will remain ingrained in the minds of our more fragrant clients whose business we may never see again thanks to you.