Sexism in poker is the fault of the 15th Century Renaissance philosopher, Marsilio Ficino, who believed that sexual desire was an excellent educational tool.

I had a dry orgasm in my dream when I was nine years old. Until recently, when I quit, I had clamoured to get my calloused fingers and thumbs on any available pornography since the same age. I would get aroused by the lingerie section in Freeman catalogue, and perch perfectly in the chair so I could see down my mother’s friend’s top each time she bent down to take a sip from her PG Tips.

As I aged, I would have sex with anyone. Drinking copious amounts of alcohol helped in that regard. Pornography use moved on from sticky magazines to the Internet. I still remember the absurdity of a conversation in the pub with two friends arguing over which porn site was the best. I was sure that any porn site with thousands of free videos was the best.

It’s the poker industry that has flicked a switch of wonderment when it comes to my personal assessment of this behaviour. When I hear the word sexism, you don’t need to be Bill Chen to figure out that my entire life has consisted of women viewed as objects of sexual desire.