I-5 south near Eugene; I am driving.

“You know what I’m going to do?” asked David.
“What?”
“I’m going to start an algae oil colony. Normally you need glass tubes but I don’t have glass tubes and I don’t want to buy them. But I can still have an algae colony in our garage. I can get plastic tubing and run it between buckets. I need to order some algae!”
He poked on his phone for a while.
“What’s the name of our school?” he asked.
“Um…Pencilhaven?”
“OK, I have to put it in this form. To order the algae, I have to tell them about our school.”
“OK.”
“What do we teach?”
“Um, classical history?”
“That’s not on the list.”
“Medieval history.”
“No no no, like…math, earth science, physics or reading?”
“Earth science and reading?”
“OK, what grade level?”
“High school?”
“It’s either a specific grade or ‘college.’”
“OK, college. Don’t you think we’re taking this ruse a bit far? Getting a bit specific in our subterfuge? Not that anyone would think that Pencilhaven is a fake school name. Better put our address as 123 Fake Street.”