When the Dealer Must Hold

A few years ago when my wife and I were still living in the UK, we used to go to casinos fairly regularly. At one particular casino, which we used to go to quite often, there was a female croupier who was always very jovial and chatty, very different from the sour–faced type that many of them seem to be. Even though she (usually) still managed to take our money, it was always more fun when she was dealing, and all the regular customers knew her quite well, my wife and I included.
I’ll call this croupier Sally for the purpose of telling you about the incident, she was about 20 years old, she did tell us her age once, but I can’t remember. She was nicely slim and had long, slightly curly, blonde hair, and a very down–to–earth attitude towards everything. At this casino at that time, as well as at all the others in the same group, the female staff wore black suits, the skirts were about knee length, and the top part was a waistcoat style tailored jacket over a white blouse, all with no pockets, of course.
Anyway, on this particular evening we were playing poker (Caribbean Stud Poker is the full name, I think), and the players were myself, my wife, and another middle–aged couple who we knew quite well. Sally was dealing, and we were all chatting and having a good laugh, as Sally was in particularly good form that evening.
Normally at that casino the croupiers were changed round regularly, for all sorts of reasons, normally after dealing a particular game for multiples of twenty minutes. However, on this particular evening the casino was very short of staff because it was summer, so some were on vacation leave and several others had called in sick, apparently too late for the manager to arrange any replacements, so all the staff were having to do longer stints than normal at the tables. There weren’t even enough inspectors, so we didn’t have one sitting at the table watching all the time, like there would normally be. There was only one inspector moving around between several tables.
We found out about the serious shortage of staff because Sally had mentioned it to us after she had come to the table, and she had also mentioned that on the last change around she hadn’t even had time for a break, she had just had to come to the Poker straight from a long stint on one of the Roulette tables.
Anyway, the evening carried on in the usual way, but after a while Sally became a little bit quieter than usual, and this prompted my wife to ask her if there was anything wrong, to which Sally replied that she really needed the loo but would probably have to wait until the next break, unless she could ask the pit boss (gaming floor manager) to get someone to take over for a few minutes.
Although that sort of thing was frowned upon because it was viewed by the company as not being very professional, this problem did happen occasionally, and normally either the pit boss would get another croupier or manager to deal for a few minutes or he would do it himself while the croupier went off to use the loo.
Eventually, after she had been at the table for nearly an hour, Sally was obviously becoming more and more uncomfortable because she was continually shifting from one foot to the other, even mentioning to us that she was getting so desperate for the loo that she kept having to cross her legs, although we couldn’t see this as her legs were hidden by the table.
After another ten or fifteen minutes, she apologized to us and said that she would just have to ask to be excused for a few minutes because she was really getting desperate, and then she signaled the pit boss to come over, which he did. She explained that she really needed to use the loo, and asked if he could get someone to take over for a few minutes.
He said that he was sorry, but because the casino was so busy, and they were so short of staff, he didn’t have anyone else to take over, and he couldn’t do it himself because he was the only manager there at the time, so he said that she would just have to wait until nine o’clock when some extra staff were due to come on duty.
Well, nine o’clock was another forty five minutes, and Sally said that she didn’t think she could wait that long, but he said she would just have to, so the other woman at the table suggested that we could stop playing for a few minutes so that Sally could go. We all agreed, but the pit boss just said that it was against company policy to stop the play on ‘open’ tables so he couldn’t allow that, and with that he walked off.
Sally was really getting desperate now, and we were all sympathizing with her and discussing how silly the rules were, agreeing that it surely shouldn’t be against the rules to stop a game if all the players were agreeable to it. She thanked us for our concern, and tried to carry on dealing as best she could, but her hands were shaking as she was dealing, she was now doing a very obvious pee–pee dance, occasionally bending forward over the table.
Fifteen minutes later, she was visibly very distressed and her hands were shaking even more now, so she called the pit boss over again and asked him once more if she could be allowed to go to the loo because she was now really desperate. He gave her the same answer and said she would just have to wait before he walked off again.
About ten minutes later, while Sally was in the middle of dealing out the cards for the next game, she suddenly stopped and just stood there almost motionless for a few seconds, then started dealing again, but very slowly now, and at the same time smiled sweetly in a sort of ‘innocent little girl’ way. In a very matter–of–fact voice she announced quietly to us all “Well, folks, I don’t need that break any more because I’m wetting myself, I just couldn’t hold it any longer.”
I couldn’t believe what she had said! Although none of us players were surprised that it happened, I think that we were all shocked that she had still tried to carry on dealing like normal, despite having wet herself, rather than just bursting into tears and running off, which I think most people would have done in that situation.
Sally carried on dealing and was now almost back to her normal jovial self. She tried to laugh about the incident while ignoring it as best as she could. I suppose there was probably nothing else she could do in the circumstances, although she did say that the pit boss would be absolutely furious when he found out that she had peed all over the carpet. A few minutes later, sure enough, the pit boss came over to the table.
Now, I don’t know what prompted the pit boss to come over. Maybe he had secretly been watching her squirming around and now he could see that she wasn’t doing that any longer?
When he came to the table, he asked Sally if she was going to be OK for another fifteen minutes or so until the relief staff arrived. She just turned to him and in a very calm voice said, “It’s OK, I don’t need the loo any more because I’ve already done it in my knickers,” just like that.
I don’t think I have ever seen anybody so shocked– he couldn’t even speak at first. I don’t know if that was because of Sally having actually wet her knickers while dealing at the table or because of the very calm way that she had told him about doing it, but stunned he was.
When he had regained his composure, he really started to have a go at Sally about the whole incident. He told her how disgraceful it was to embarrass the company like that in front of customers etc. etc. etc., and finished off by saying that he thought she would probably lose her job when the Manager found out about it.
At this point my wife butted into the conversation and said that it wasn’t Sally’s fault at all, it was really his fault for not letting her go to the loo when she had asked twice for permission. That, in the circumstances Sally had actually tried to carry on in a very professional way, despite being extremely desperate and uncomfortable for so long that she had been forced to wet her knickers. I and the other couple agreed.
My wife then told him that if anything happened to Sally’s job as a result of this that we would write to the Head Office and explain to them how he had forced Sally to wet her knickers while dealing at the table, that it wasn’t her fault at all, and how she had really carried on very professionally throughout the whole unnecessary incident.
I then said that it was the management’s responsibility to make sure that there were enough staff on duty so that people could get their breaks when needed. It certainly wasn’t the staff’s responsibility to cover up for the management’s failure to keep the place properly staffed. The other couple agreed with us and said that they would write to the Head Office too.
After a few minutes spent facing the obvious prospect of having two angry letters going to the Head Office, the pit boss relented and promised that nothing would happen to Sally’s job. He then closed that Poker table and asked us to move to the other one that had been closed up until then. Nothing more was said about the incident that evening and at nine o’clock, relief staff came onto duty and Sally went home.
A couple of weeks later my wife and I were back at the same casino again, and as I was played Roulette, my wife was playing Poker again. This time she was the only customer playing and Sally was dealing so they were chatting away as usual.
On our way home my wife told me that, because they had been alone at the table earlier, Sally had thanked her very much for our support on the evening of the ‘incident,’ while also explaining to my wife that she had never, ever been as desperate to pee as she had been that evening.
Sally had also confessed to her that she had actually been doing little spurts of pee into her knickers on and off for quite some time, initially releasing some on purpose just to try and relieve the pressure, but after a few minutes she was spurting because she just couldn’t help it. Eventually, when her knickers had obviously soaked up as much pee as they could, she had felt a few dribbles of pee starting to run down her legs– and at that point she simply decided to give up the losing struggle and just let go completely.
A few months later, Sally was able to leave that casino, but it had nothing to do with the wetting incident– she left because she had been offered a much better paying job as a croupier on a cruise ship in the Mediterranean.
PeeSpy (email welcome)