“Where do you work?”

*suspiciously* “Yeah? Where’s it at?”

Oh down by

Me: “Hey darlin’, you wanna go to A Nice Restaurant to eat?”

Her: “Sure thing!  Where??”

Me: *prepares for a “Who’s On First”-esque conversation*

True: I once waited tables for a high-end steak and wine place that was called The Strip Club. Whenever someone asked where I worked, it required some explanation. Especially when my dad asked.