There are two words I never use when doing a magic trick, either in the introduction thereof or in the actual presentation itself. The first word is magic. The second word is trick. Why? Because nowadays it seems nobody actually wants to see a magic trick unless, of course, they've already shelled out big bucks for an evening at the Magic Castle or stageside tickets to Lance Burton. Truth be told, almost nobody wants to admit to even liking magic anymore despite any burning curiosity they might be secretly harboring to the contrary. This isn't to say that there's anything wrong with a traditional tuxedo-clad approach to the art. It's just not the way I choose to conduct business. If you've ever approached a perfect stranger in a business or social setting and asked them outright if they'd like to see a magic trick, you know exactly what I'm talking about. I like to believe I've developed a much more subtle approach.
Having made my living for many years as an accountant, I'm often asked why I chose such a "dreadfully boring" career path. That's my cue to begin. I respond by explaining that, despite the "boring" nature of my job, I was blessed with an "uncanny affinity for numbers". In other words, the job chose me and not the other way around. My response at this stage is actually a pretty honest one. But I'm only just getting started with my pitch. As an example, I explain that I can look at a deck of shuffled playing cards for thirty seconds or so and actually memorize the random sequence of the cards. This never fails to raise a few eyebrows. And, of course, I always manage to have a deck of Bicycle playing cards lying around nearby to prove my point. I intentionally avoid anything that even remotely looks like a flourish. A little sloppiness actually helps with the presentation. While shuffling the deck, I toss out a few more tidbits of trivia. Like the fact that I've become so familiar with Bicycle-brand playing cards that I can name the exact number of cards in a given stack simply by weighing the cards in my hand. This leads me directly into my first effect. But, of course, I never use the word effect either.
After having successfully determined the exact number of cards in a cut-off stack as well as calling out the names and locations of any cards left in the deck, I move onto more traditional fare like revealing the identity of a card secretly reversed and randomly inserted back into the deck behind the spectator's back.
"Isn't that a magic trick?", I'm usually asked. I have a stock answer to their question. "Maybe... I haven't done one since I was a kid. I gave it up when I realized I couldn't make a living at it." Again, I've tactfully sidestepped the question in order to move on to my next effect.
If my captive subject hasn't fallen asleep at this point, I continue with a prediction effect and finish up with a couple of demonstrations revolving around issues like coincidence and intuition. After I've completed my routine, I leave my spectator firmly convinced that, indeed, I have an "uncanny affinity for numbers". Rarely does any of them leave my presence believing that they've just been entertained by a mere magician.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to pull off an "Uri Geller" here nor am I suggesting you should. I don't try to convince anyone that I possess superhuman or physic abilities. My presentations are always accompanied by a wink and a smile. And the spectator is always left to draw his or her own conclusions.