Americans

It seems that I can't escape the attentions of these people anywhere.
We stopped at a service station on the way to Dover yesterday. While in line for some brekky (11 items for £8.99) an american woman kept asking me questions.
"What is that? Is it ham?"
"It's bacon."
"What's a bloomer slice?"
"A slice of bread."
"It looks like cinnomon toast. What is that?"
"Sausage meat pattie."
"What is that?"
"Pork."
"What's an item?" Are they really this stupid?
"One item from the counter, a sausage for example."
"Oh, okay. Sorry, we're from America."
"Really?" I couldn't tell from the fact they were fat and shouting.
"Yes sir. We landed this morning at o'five hundred. (Who honestly talks like that?) We're on our way to Dover to go on a cruise. It's our 50th wedding anniversary."
And then it happened. Not content with just letting it be, my bro-in-law Gaz said...
"Oh, congratulations." I looked at him, rolled my eyes and shook my head slightly, but the damage was done.
"Why thank you! Yes sirreeeeee, 50 years, all to the same guy, what a guy!"
Then the husband chipped in...
"Yeah, I'm still on my probation!"
"Oh stop! No, my husband is a diabetic. He can eat meat and eggs but not bread. Are those eggs?"
"Where are you from?" What's wrong with him? Why don't he shut up?
"We're from ba-doing-diddly-oing-idaho-united-states" It sounded like that anyway. Like that couple from Harry Enfield's show. "We're going on a cruise around the Baltic, then we're coming back to spend three days in London."
And that was it for me, I couldn't take anymore! I quickly selected the last of my items and went to pay.
They're everywhere, there's no escape. Resistance is futile.