Las Vegas in Tehran: Underground Casinos

The following piece was written by an Iranian citizen journalist on the ground inside the country.

One after another, the latest cars arrive: Mercedes, BMW, Porsche, and even a Lamborghini with a temporary license plate. The drivers are mostly young men, who arrive on their own, hand the keys to the carwash attendant and walk towards the office.

It is midnight at one of Tehran’s 24-hour carwashes. None of the cars are dirty, but the moment the cars arrive, the hoses are turned on and the carwash employees get to work.

It turns out that the drivers’ destination is not actually the carwash, but the basement of the building behind it, which has been turned into a casino. I am able to get in via a friend, a frequent client. It is decked out with three poker tables, two foosball sets and a billiard table.

A young man opens the door and directs me to a table loaded with chips. For those who want to buy chips to play poker, there is a credit card reader on the table. “At first, before we had the card reader, we had problems,” says Ali, the young man sitting behind the table. “Somebody came, lost a lot of money but ran out of cash. Now everybody rests easy.”

All games are betting games. To play poker, each player must pay an admission fee of 50,000 tomans — around $20. The winner pays 10 percent of his winnings to the house immediately following the end of the game. Admission fees for foosball and billiards are $8; for these games, the winner does not have to pay a percentage to the house.

On one poker table, the bets are all placed in US dollars. People buy chips in dollars and the amount the winner takes home is calculated in dollars. Among the players are two women. People stand around, eagerly following the game.

Customers are served soft drinks and juice, which is included in the admission price. One of the poker players pulls a whiskey flask out of his pocket, but the casino manager rushes up to him and says: “Please do not drink in here. If you have to, do it outside. It will create problems here.” The young man puts the bottle back in his pocket. “Not everybody is like you,” the casino manager says. “Some people can’t handle it. They down a shot and become unruly.”

The manager looks to be about 55 years old. He sits at a round table with his friends, smoking and playing twenty-one.

Between midnight and 2am, somewhere around $7000 or $8000 changes hands in this little casino —not an insignificant amount for Iran. But this is not the only casino in Tehran. Other casino owners, like Mehrdad, have converted their houses for the purpose. Mehrdad’s casino is dedicated to poker. “Tehran poker players all come here,” he boasts. “Everything here is authentic so professional poker players choose to come here.”

Mehrdad’s casino has four stylish poker tables, custom-made by a carpenter who specializes in casino furniture and charges between $1,000 and $2,000 apiece.

Authentic Vegas Chips from France and No Political Talk

Arranged on each of the tables at Mehrdad’s casino are ceramic chips marked “Las Vegas”. “They are the real thing,” he informs me. “Somebody brought me a set of 500 from France in an aluminum case. Each chip weighs 11 grams and ‘Las Vegas’ is etched on them with a laser.” He paid $560 for the set. “Next time he traveled to France, I ordered another set. Not everybody would do this though, because it’s heavy; it weighs 8.5 kilos. But my friend did me a favor.” The second time his friend did him the favor, he had to pay close to $100 more than he did the first time.

Mehrdad has spent a good amount of time decorating the place. “My nephew lives in America,” he says. “He was visiting Las Vegas. I asked him to take photographs from different casinos and I used them as models.”

Opposite the poker tables is a large bar full of bottles, from Jack Daniel’s to Smirnoff and everything else. Drinks are free, included in the $55 fee for each round. Five percent of the winnings goes to Mehrdad’s bank account the same night.

Casino hours are 8pm to 5am. Most of the clients are men. “I have a few woman customers who are professional poker players,” he tells me. “They do not come here every night, but at the very least once a week.”

A sign on the wall reads “No Political Talk.” “Years ago, I came to the conclusion that in this country you can do anything provided you don’t talk politics,” he explains. “But if you mind your own business, nobody bothers you.”

Many poker players, however, do not frequent gambling houses. Instead, they have poker parties. Faramarz owns a factory and hosts poker rounds with his friends, who work in every profession, from doctors and engineers to artists and factory owners. On Friday nights, the dining table at his house is loaded up with snacks. The party begins with a variety of foods and drinks. At these parties, all the players are men, but each of them can bring in a “back hand,” meaning a woman who sits behind the poker player and takes a share of his winnings.

“We don’t bet high,” says Faramarz. “Most of the time we just give the winnings to the young women who sit behind our hands.” He laughs and adds, “They don’t play, but they provide a nice view for the poker players.”

Faramarz is searching for a good poker table. And I have the number of Mehrdad’s carpenter, who sends over several designs to choose from. Some models do double duty: dining tables that can be quickly converted to poker tables. Prices vary, from around $700 and up.

When I ask the carpenter about them, he laughs and tells me, if I am buying it for a casino, to buy the most expensive and ornate one. “They will make back the money in just one night,” he says.

I ask him about how many tables he has made for and sold to casinos. He pauses. “Any casino that has a respectable table has bought it from me,” he says proudly. “More than 10 casino owners in Tehran have bought from me.”