Worse Than Bad Geography

INT. DAY - Bank office. T.C. sitting at a desk with a teller. He's wiring money.

Teller: I need the particulars for your wire transfer.
T.C. (winks): Here you go...honey.
Teller: Florida? Is that a state in another country?
T.C.: No. It's a province.
Teller (types): P....r...o...v...i...
T.C.: What are you doing?
Teller: Writing Florida is a province.
T.C.: No. It's a state. It's, like, one of the biggest regions on the, you know, continent? Disney, Tropicana, Key Lime pie, Miami Vice and Florida Gators. Ring a bell?
Teller: No.
T.C.: But you're French-Canadian.
Teller: Yes.
T.C.: You people invaded Florida like Vandals and Goths.
Teller: I need the address of the bank.
T.C.: Sure.
Teller: Please review to make sure there are no mistakes.
T.C.(glances over paper): You have no postal codes.
Teller: Those numbers are postal codes?
T.C.: Yes.
Teller: Anything else?
T.C.: You spelled San Diego wrong. It's not San Diago, Ron Burgundy.
Teller: Is that city?
T.C.: Yes.
Teller: Where?
T.C.: California.
Teller: Ok. I think we have all that's needed for your wire. Thank you and have a nice day.

Loosely based on a true story.