The other evening at the Magic Castle, I performed for a lovely young couple from Perth, Australia.They had flown into Los Angeles for their honeymoon and were dressed to the nines to have a once-in-a-lifetime experience at the magical capital of the world.
They were both beaming. She was a pretty and chatty blonde. She seemed like the kind of woman who isn’t quite beautiful, but through highlights and makeup, has turned into a fair approximation of it. Most importantly, though, I could see some intelligence peeking out from behind the mask. He was on the short side with red cheeks and a good physique. Peeking out from behind his mask, I caught a bit of an inferiority complex, but he was charming, nonetheless. I did a couple tricks for them, including a romantic piece of magic that gave them a souvenir.
“This,” I told them, holding up their signed playing card with which I had accomplished the impossible, “will remind you of this moment, 50 years from now, and you’ll say to each other, ‘Honey, remember this? It’s from that time on our honeymoon when we went to that Magic Castle place.’”
It was so sweet.
“But how did you do it?” the woman asked.
“A magician never tells,” I said.
“But I just don’t understand. It was two cards, and now it’s one….”
But then, all in a moment, it all came crashing down.
“Just stop talking,” the man said.
“What?” she said.
“Just stop talking. You make yourself sound like an idiot.”
It was an extraordinary moment in which I saw everything converging at once: love, marriage, honeymoon, and divorce, the whole damn thing, all in a single moment.