03/01/99

David Blaine Reveals the World's Greatest Bar Scam

Magazine: Esquire, March 1999

Suppose for a minute that you have powers, strange powers. Like, for instance, say you can levitate, or make objects disappear and then reappear somewhere else, or even read people's minds. If you're David Blaine--Leo DiCaprio possemate, hipster magician, and master of the fine art of freaking people out--you can do all of these things and more (enough, at least, to fill an hour-long ABC special, David Blaine: Magic Man, airing this spring). Some victims laugh nervously after witnessing his shenanigans, some weep, and some run away. But all of their reactions are inevitably punctuated by the words "Oh. my God! How did you do that?" On these pages, Blaine invites you, the amateur, into the world of magic through an exercise in barroom chicanery (stress on the word exercise: Our prestidigitator wants everyone to know he never really does this). Like any good scam, it's meant to dupe someone out of his money; here, that someone is the bartender (who, we will assume for the purpose of this trick, is a bad, bad guy).

(*) Esquire's legal counsel requires us to note that such a confidence trick is highly illegal and should not be attempted. In fact, the only reason we're explaining the ploy here, in print, is to alert America's bartenders--a fir number of whom, we're sure, are Esquire readers--to this nefarious con so that they may better protect themselves from unscrupulous patrons.

PHOTOS (COLOR): 1. An accomplice enters the bar and sets himself up with a beer, which he nearly finishes. You roll in a short time later with a crisp fifty-dollar bill burning a hole in your pocket. Ignoring your partner, you spot the poor bartender and casually order a drink, maybe two, paying for them up front. After a while, strike up a conversation with the barkeep to open him up. "It doesn't hurt," says Blaine, "to have a beautiful woman with you, either." Tell him you're gonna show him the best trick he's ever seen. Pull out your fifty and unfold it. Make a ceremony of it--say to him, "Just to make sure I don't switch this with another bill, I want you to sign your name on my fifty." Make sure the bartender understands that the bill is, in fact, your fifty, so he'll easily give it back.

PHOTOS (COLOR): 2. Now you're gonna fold the bill in half three times. Fold it again, and again if necessary, making it a good, small size so you can conceal it in your hand, says Blaine. This is important--without this step, the sleight-of-hand move you spent all weekend perfecting won't look too swift.

PHOTOS (COLOR): 3. Next comes the disappearing part. Motion so that it seems as though you have dropped the bill into your left hand as you curl it into a fist. Actually, however, you've secreted the bill in your right hand, tucked between your fingers. Of course, your mark, the hapless man at the beer tap, doesn't know this. Keep your left hand closed in front of him and say to the bartender, "Hey, look. It just disappeared. It's in your pocket." Open your left hand, revealing it empty.

PHOTOS (COLOR): 4. While he's looking in his pocket, pass the bill off to the accomplice you've planted in the joint beforehand.

PHOTOS (COLOR): 5. Your friend crosses to the other end of the bar and quickly pays for his beer with that fifty. Meanwhile, buy some time by distracting the bartender. Tell him, "NO, it's not in your pocket. Look in your wallet." By now, your buddy's gotten his change back from the other bartender, probably around forty-five dollars.

PHOTOS (COLOR): 6. Say to the bartender, "You're not gonna believe this, but go look in the register." He walks over to the register and boom it's sitting right there. So the bartender, flabbergasted and a bit confused, saying to himself, How did he do that?, removes the bill from the till and hands you your fifty back--after your friend pockets the forty-five dollars that he never had in the first place. End of scam. And time for one last piece of Esquire advice: Leave casually but as swiftly as possible. And pray the bouncer hasn't been spying on you.

Photograhs by Frank Ockenfels 3

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