Will believe in any new age BS
There is no vaguely hippy “thing”, or laughable spiritual “practice” that an American won’t fall for. Chakras must be in alignment. Ley lines must be consulted. And at all times, one must drown any vestige of reason or logic in one’s head with gallons of kombucha. Is there any beverage more perfect for the gullible?
It tastes like balsamic urine, looks like toxic waste and costs more than champagne. Therefore, it must be good for you! Mr Martin, you’re lucky. You can junk all that gong-ringing, yoga-farting, macrobiotic nonsense and get back to your roots: solid English scepticism, served with a Cornish pasty.


The word “woo!”
To marry an American is to accept the word “woo!” into your life. The word is not in any dictionary, but is written deep inside an American’s heart and soul. To an American, if anything vaguely good is happening, one must emit a “woo”. Perhaps a baseball team has hit a baseball. Or a tray of cupcakes successfully made it from the kitchen to a living room table. Anything dimly positive can be greeted with a overly-loud, obnoxiously out-of-context: “WOOO! YEAH! Cupcakes! Awesome!”. It is insufferable.


The “I’m An American” excuse.
Americans demonstrate a perverse pride in not knowing about the rest of the world. What’s more, they justify their ignorance with a maddening defence: “I don’t know: I’m an American”. As if it’s their birthright to think Spain is part of France. Or think that Malaysia isn’t a real place.