EAT&DRINK
Amazement is Your Appetizer
Magician Mark Zacharia’s tricks and comic patter “turn wait time into fun time” for
restaurant patrons. Now, if he could just make the check disappear. By Eric Levin
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A stocky man in a black suit and red
sport shirt is walking through the dining
rooms of the Stage House Tavern in
Scotch Plains, checking out the people
at the tables. He could be the manager;
a guy looking for his pals; an undercover
cop looking for a perp. He is, in fact, a
close-up magician, a specialist whose
stage is the corner of a restaurant table.
His name is Mark Zacharia, and he is
in his 11th year of being paid to astonish
Stage House customers every Thurs-
day from 6 to 8 PM. On this evening, he
spots two young girls sitting with their
parents. They have just given the server
their order. “My job is to turn wait time
into fun time,” he says. “The minute the
menus come off, they’re fair game.”
Zacharia approaches the table and
seamlessly inserts himself into the
conversation. His patter is faster than
the ear in the same way the hand is
quicker than the eye. In seconds, the
girls and their parents are laughing.
Zacharia threads a red ribbon through
three antique coins, each with a square
hole in the middle. He holds the two
ends of the ribbon in one hand so the
three coins dangle between the girls’
faces. Then, with his free hand, he
gently removes the center coin without
disturbing the ribbon or the other coins.
The girls squeal with delight.
Moving on, he stops at a table where
a middle-aged couple has just ordered.
He pulls five crisp $1 bills from his pocket
and shows them both sides. They nod,
unfazed. He flips the bills and suddenly
they are $100s—on both sides. They
laugh. “Thanks very much, there’s our
dinner,” says the woman, reaching out
her hand. The magician instantly turns
the bills back into ones, offering regrets
that $5 won’t even buy an appetizer.
Zacharia is just warming up. He spots
a couple who come here several times a
year from Brooklyn just to see him. With
nearly 500 tricks in rotation, Zacharia
rarely repeats himself. Tonight, he fans a
deck of cards in front of the couple, Bob
Higgins, a retired Brooklyn fireman, and
his wife, Susan, an attorney. Susan picks
a card, looks at it and returns it to the
deck. Zacharia shuffles the cards so half
