Why I don't like Magicians.

The reason I don't like magicians is because I have always found them boring. Even as a little kid I was never impressed by them. When my second son, Paul, was still a kid and it was his birthday, my wife decided to throw a little birthday party for him, as one does.

He must have been about five or six at the time. All the little children from his class came to his party and my wife hired an old lady who was a magician for little kids' birthday parties. You know the people I mean - they are in local newspapers - phone one up, bung them a few pounds, and they come around for an hour and perform a few tricks for the children.

My wife (ex-wife now) told the old lady that I was not to taken with magicians - the way women do when you would prefer them not too. The old lady gave me an unappreciative look but went into the living room with a collapsible table and a small bag.

I stood at the back of the room behind the kids who were all switched onto the magic lady. She went through the usual boring routine and got some of the kids to participate. Then she had an old black top hat on the table and pulled a white rabbit from it. All the kids were delighted and I did not expect it, but then it is a regular trick, and the grumpy old me kicked in and thought, "Not that original."

When it was time to go I helped the old lady carry all her things out to the car. It was a Volvo estate car - very clean with no junk any where. I put the collapsible table in the back and she got into the driver's seat holding her small bag. I walked around the side of the car as she started it up and as I peered in, I was again struck by how clean the car was. It then struck me that a rabbit could not be in the small bag and apart from the collapsible table, which I put in the back; I could not fathom out where the rabbit was kept. It was a real rabbit and I did see it during her performance of tricks.

I know now that it must have been somewhere logical but I had missed it so, like a complete twat, I played right into the old ladies hands and said. "Where's the rabbit?"

I expected her to tell me, but quick as a flash, she gave me a stern look and said, "Its magic young man."

The window went up and she pompously drove off into the sunset and I was standing there with my arse in my hands thinking, "How the bloody hell did that get there?"  

I still don't like magicians - they always pull a trick out of the hat when you least expect it.