Magic and PC (Pre-assignment 2)

It was just like any normal weekend Saturday, only on this particularly one I was called as magician to a road-show for passer-bys along a section of Orchard Road for a youth charity organization. In slacks and fitting polo top, I stood under a severe mid-day glare amongst the endless throngs with a deck of cards and a few half-dollars and quarters soliciting for a 'service' unlike any other. It was so premium  passer-bys had trouble even beginning to understand why I would run barefaced into awkward encounters of the like----"sorry I have no time; please I really am not interested; now go away please I don't like magic," which seemed to put me in an undignified spot for all the rejection and embarrassment I would countenance. But whence there was toil, reward tended to follow, and my first spectator was all the relief and girl I had ever hoped for.

She had an incandescent smile, the bearing of a supermodel, and what seemed a well-intentioned heart by her compliance to a glib request of 'service'. She wore flawless flowing black hair and matching demure dress that at once seemed solemn and electrifying---to such I did not know what to feel (receive (nonverbal)) or think.  Many a time when that happened to me, trouble romped on the horizon because I would expect a wreck of incoherence in thought, speech and action, as any bewitched teenage boy would.

Here was an attractive lass----that had truly swept me off my two feet.

Sensing the trouble in me was going to burst its lid, I reminded myself  I had done this a thousand times over to different other attractive girls; I wasn't going to make a fool of myself by messing up the trick, and more importantly the communication that will deliver it straight to her heart and concoct upheaval in her gut.

I returned almost a blank stare to her unexpected compliance, noting in detail the spotlessly fair complexion she had. But I immediately followed up with a mental jolt in the form of the reminder which then manifested itself in first forms----professional eye contact with the girl any seasoned magician can summon, followed  by appropriate body carriage that assumed authority to facilitate clear instructions for the requirements of the trick to come, and not least some modulation of the nuances of voice forms, facial expressions and the topics of interests to break the ice and disarm her before the trick proper.

With all that done, I'd found out her name was Alice and she had just been in her early twenties. She loved roller-blading and had come to Orchard to purchase her dream pair of roller-blades. That was all I could probe with a few seemingly innocuous matter-of-factly questions couched in intermittent humor, and a deck of bright red Bicycle cards----which I imagined was what kept her interested in holding the conversation with me, a stranger, at all.

For she knew what was to come and the deck told every of that. Sensing the ripe of time for a memorable snag, I asked her if she saw a group of young teenagers playing with cards a few meters away under the shade; and I instructed her, beauty-laden, to go over and asked to borrow those 52 cards for only just a minute or two. Unsurprisingly, she weaved her magic just as well and the boys, spellbounded and tongue-tied, made her job easier and they meekly surrendered the cards without a meager query. She returned with the full deck while I visibly tossed mine out of the way into the opposite shade. I then emphasized that the cards she'd just gotten were not mine, neither were they gimmicked because she was holding every one of those in her hands as we spoke, and she had no reason to suspect anything was amissed---not me or the teenagers, nor the sun, day, cards or her person----she was mind-blowing, or didn't I established that already.

I asked her a favour to shuffle the cards in any way she knew and as completely as possible, while I turned my back. When she was done, I came back around and requested she handed over all the shuffled cards. This was making sure I had complete authority over the minor procedures within the trick while not making it such a big deal. That is key because in a magic performance, you want not the authority of regality but that regulated by finely embodied interpersonal etiquette----that top-rated street magicians must master.

Having now shuffled the cards and handed back to me, she appeared a caricature of -----"So dude, what's next huh?", or so I clearly or unclearly inferred.

As if to muster a retort to an intangible form, I almost casually let slipped my tongue to a "shut-up." Fortunately, I made myself a second reminder and I was back on track----just like an expert.

I gathered the deck and squared into a neat pile, then spread face-down across the back between both palms so that a beautiful and evenly-spaced fan emerged. It was done so swiftly and almost habitually I got a 'wow' out of her the first time.

Next I instructed her to pick any card from the fan and to hold it tightly closed to her chest, making sure she knew she was not to allow anyone in on the identity of her card. I set aside the deck and started to patronize the heightened expectations, emotions and moods of her delicate being, and that required judicious use of professional communication skills at every opportune juncture leading into the climax----in the form of revelation!!

Immediately after she had seen her card and I set the deck away, I stood squared with her to evoke honesty and open-ness----manly traits scholastic research showed attracted and kept women. Then I went on to asked her to place the card away in her dress pocket and kindly and non-obligingly asked for both her delicate palms the same exact way a groom would in ceremonial marriage. Gently I held them, and all but looked intently at the back of her palms for a good few seconds and proceeded to make favourable comments about them, which got her giggling only infatuated girls in high-school would. With that I aced the communication at that level of interest and proceeded eagerly, with almost the same infatuated retinal shimmer, to the next level also the ensuing step in the impending climax.

I specifically requested that she looked right into my eyes for the remaining duration of the trick and thought only of her chosen card, while I all the time try to sense the card out of her using the electrifying touch that for now binded the nerves in our dorsum (and God-willing for eternity too) and, deep vision-induced telepathy.

She threw me a dubious look and refused to believe; I played along with an apothegm---"You know something Alice, I can even tell the amount of change you have in your purse right now!" She snickered so wildly and girlishly this time, I was sure my infatuation with her would last a lifetime and her phone number would be testament to that.

I have thus proceeded to ace the subsequent level of interest in the communication ladder by having created a deeper sense of connection and attraction within Alice, and there now remained just the final step.

I was supposed to get serious nearer the end of the trick, or so that was how I learnt it, but with modifications to suit my person. Accordingly, I tightened my back and extended forwards my chest to demonstrate I meant business as of now; and I threw her enthralled person with a few more reminders that she was to maintain eye contact with me at all times. At this time, even that had turned up a few notches sterner so that she would stop giggling and started flinching in place at what was to come. With that I aced the final step in the communication ladder for having expertly transported her, without complications, from state to state, with so much as a deck of cards and a school-boyish charm.

I only had to half-hesitantly mutter "The Queen Of Diamonds" in a haphazard manner complete with all sorts of occasional inflection, rhythm, pitch and tone to earn an endearing hug and a chance to see her reveling in disbelief in all her glorious girlish wonder, by which time I had long before begun taking interest in her and wanted to express it. Yet I knew I had to preserve the credibility and dignity of the magician's trade---which was to deliver the magic that hit hard with no strings attached (although there were cases where magic was legitimately used to get a head-start in the game of love and attraction, but I felt that was not for today and I had to let her go!)---because the magic is strongest when the person (spectator) is left alone, and the magician does not occupy any place in his/her actual life; which would in turn give him/her the chance to continually exult in the splendor of the magician, the highest desire of a true professional magician-cum-communicator.

Such is the legacy of David Copperfield.

Before Alice left and after we exchanged well-wishes and one more hug, I reminded of her obligation to place no small amount of consolation in one of the whoppers on display. I never knew its amount, only the impact my impromptu I had hoped made an everlasting trace inside her, as much as the identity of the chosen card even before she got out of bed that morning.



A Toss