“A guy walks into a talent agency and says, ‘Boy, do I have an act for you…’”

Not desiring to taint the Whispering Wall with any more of my newfound knowledge, I stop there.

“And?” comes the voice in the other corner.
“No, that’s it.”
“Nuh uh.”

I laugh. No, I giggle. Like a blushing school girl who’s deeply ashamed at having misunderstood Bob Saget all these years. Forgive me, Bob. I didn’t know.

“Well, go on.”
“No! I can’t! There are children around. And besides, I’m a lady!”
“The ladies in the movie were some of the most vulgar! Carrie Fisher…” the rest of his sentence gets lost.
“Women.”
“What?”
“Women told the joke. Not ladies.”
“What’s the difference?”
“One is what sex you are and one is how you behave.” I’m full of crap and he knows it.

He says something else and I laugh and look over my shoulder at him, losing the last of his sentence in the bad reception. I notice tourists are milling around, waiting for their turns. I suddenly become very self aware and step away from the Whispering Wall before either of us says the punch line. We all know what it is by now anyway.

Except maybe for Eddie Izzard. He seemed a bit confused.