Ten Americanisms We Did Hear.

1. 'Yuuu're Wwwellcome.' Everywhere, but particularly drawley between Florida and DC.
2. 'Wwwellcome to Missess Mac's.' Breakfast in Key Largo. Good-ish filter coffee (high compliment), and yummy potato casserole (a generic name for anything breakfast orientated that involves potatoes: this one was a creamy sort of grated potato patty).
3. 'COME ON IN!' Pizza restaurant in Satellite Beach. The owner welcomed you in with a gesture reminiscent of the Godfather welcoming you to a shootout where his drug trade benefits from your demise.
4. 'Where's my baseball bat?' Ditto. It was an exclamation to his conversations with the locals. Scary thing was he then readily produced said bat.
5. 'Freeee saaaample. Praaaline.' Charleston. This was as good a deal as the place who offered free coffee with use of the ATM machine. There is more to it than meets the eye I reckon. Re: ATM—crazy charges. Re: praline—addiction and subsequent purchase of large amount of praline.
6. 'Free to try, five to buy.' Valentines Eve. (The eve of public holidays are under-utilised). Fake perfume seller outside Macy's.
7. 'Ready for a refill.' Everywhere, and judging by the list of bad coffees, the answer is probably no.
8. 'Do you need your size?' I really wanted to get a pair of button-fly Levis, but ran screaming from this store, and others, in New York. I think shop attendants work on commision in the States. They attach themselves to you and hard seel from the moment you enter. I got asked this three times from the door to the rack. Eek. No button-fly jeans for me I am afraid.
9. 'The moving walkway ends now.' On a moving walkway about five hundred meters long, in and eeriely empty, snowed-in airport in DC, this message started as you boarded and repeated, separarted by a second's pause for the whole trip. That would probably have been okay except we had to ride the five hundred meters three times due to a wrong turn.
10. 'That's a rrrreeeallyy long walk/drive; you'll never make it all that way.' This statement applies to everything from a walk across a carpark to Walmart to a five hundred and thirty mile, one day drive from Charleston to Washington. My theory has always been (rather racially) that Americans believe legs are supplied to people by God in order that one can reach the pedals of one's automobile. But, you don't want to wear them out doing that either. Unless you are Dean Moriarty.