As the late-middle-aged couple at the table next to us get up, the male half approaches, grinning: “Excuse me, aren’t you Governor Sarah Palin?” It’s so lame that Fey can barely manage a quarter of a fake smile. “Not for, like, three years now,” she says, looking as if she’d like to dive under the table.

The guy has his gag, though, and he’s going to run with it. “I so enjoy watching you on Fox,” he says.

“Thank you, have a nice day,” she replies. As he walks away, she murmurs, “Until the day I die. Until the day I die.”