There’s an Underground station that has a pub in it. I think it’s Baker Street, but I could be wrong.
I’m at a table in the pub, drinking my “half of bitter”, waiting for the train.
A feel a tap on my right shoulder.
I turn to the right.
A man, sitting at the next table, is staring at me. A laborer, it appears. Fiftyish. Unshaven. A little scary around the eyes.
The man’s holding a knife in his right hand.
It’s a butter knife.
The man gestures downward.
I focus on the knife.
The flat side of the butter knife is facing up. The man flips it over. Now the other side of the butter knife is facing up.
The man flips back to the first side. There are now four squares of torn napkin paper, about a quarter of an inch apart, lined up along the flat side of the butter knife.
The man flips it over. There are now four squares of napkin paper, about a quarter of an inch apart, lined up along the other side of the butter knife.
He flips the knife back to the first side. The squares of paper have disappeared. He flips the knife over. No squares on the other side as well.
The man flips the knife to the first side again. The squares of paper have returned. He flips the knife over. They’ve returned to the other side as well.
The man shrugs enigmatically.
My train arrives.
I thank him for the magic trick,
And I head for home.
Monday, April 6, 2009
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3 comments:
That sounds more like diamond earrings with video cameras in them, and men with quadriceps that cause them to walk funny. How does one even relax with quads so big...freak of nature if you ask my opinion. And what's with his Mommy?
It's never about the napkins Earl, don't be fooled.
I was once on a long steep escalator climbing up to street level at Kensington Tube Station. There was a busker playing "Tequila" on a sax. Everyone was minding their own business, reading, staring, whatever...as the escalator made its climb. When the busker hit those notes that lead up to the shout "Tequila!" everyone broke out of their trance and screamed "TEQUILA!" on cue...and went back to what they were doing as if it was just something you HAD to do. London is the best. Their eccentricities are built into their character. It was one of the most surreal things I had experienced.
That...and the guy at the Tower of London who had another nose growing out of his cheek. But that was just unfortunate.
And yet, what are prestidigitation and legerdemain compared to mastery of the concise declarative sentence? BTW, I eat my peas with honey….
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