Inside Magic

Magic, Pure Magic

Magician Rakesh Syam works as a Carnival performer in
that he is a performer aboard Carnival Liberty.

The 29-year-old magician hales from Madurai, India and works not on the stage in the Cabaret Lounge or
the theater but from table-top to table-top.

We weren't aware of many table-hopping magicians
working cruise lines and so the story in today's Orlando Sentinel was
interesting-and-a-half.

The Sentinel's reviewer is charmed by Mr. Syam.
Actually, charmed may be an understatement. She is darn right smitten.
"Get a room!" we shouted as we read her account of the magical
encounter on the high seas. "Why don't you marry him and kiss him
all day if you love him so much!"

Our shouts had no effect on the article — presumably
because it was already written — but enticed the young woman trying to
carefully mix the Cola and Mountain Dew Code Red Slurpee mixture.

"Do you think I should?" she asked with the
frozen drink now flowing freely over her small, shivering hands — free of any
rings or signs of engagement.

We returned to reading the out-of-town
newspaper. The 7-11 manager seemed preturbed that we were reading his
precious newspaper without paying but it was his fault the newspapers were set
so closely to the counter area. We didn't set up the store. He
did.

Back to the Love Boat article.

We have to caution you, it gets really weird and kinky
at this point.

"Pick a card," he says.
"Any card."

 

Oh, so it's going to be one of those tricks, I say to
myself as I withdraw the two of diamonds from the deck. Syam turns his back and
asks me to write my husband's name on the card with a thick black felt pen,
replace it in the deck, and shuffle it.

Syam reshuffles the deck one last time, then tries to
guess which card I picked.

Was it the nine of spades, he asks, turning the card
over? Nope. The four of hearts, perhaps? No. The jack of clubs? No. This is
embarrassing. Even Syam seems somewhat perturbed.

"I don't know what's going on," he mutters,
pulling something from his pocket. It's a playing card, folded in quarters and
held together by a paperclip. He drops it on the table.

Yup, it's the two of diamonds with my husband's name
scrawled across it in bold black letters.

"How did you do that?" I say, gasping.

He just smiles.

Across the table, my husband chimes in: "Can you
make her 20 years younger?"

"I'm good," Syam says, "but not that
good."

Practice makes awesome.

Okay, is it us? Does that gross you out?
She's flirting with the magician — the "awesome" magician who made
her gasp.

In the midst of their unspoken tryst, her dog of a hubby
demonstrates to her young hero why he is unworthy of her love:

"See," she says to the
readers, "my husband didn't gasp, he didn't feel the…

Continue reading Disgusting Romance, Great Magic, Smut, and a Boat