I'm reminded of the story of a Yank who was touring England. He got into the Lake District and tried to pick a thistle that had somehow strayed down from Scotland. As he shook his aching hand, he exclaimed,
"What a country! They drive on the wrong side of the road, they eat with the wrong hand, the beer's hot, the women are cold, and the flowers bite!"
The British rejoinder to that story is the one about the American who boarded a train in London. The only available seat was taken by a snappy little dog sitting beside her owner, a stuffy dowager.
The Yank said, "Madam, will you move your dog, please?" She merely looked down her nose at him. He asked her the second time, and she replied, "For the likes of you? Certainly not!" And the dog snapped at him.
The train had not started to move yet, and the window beside her was open, so the Yank scooped the dog up and tossed it out. The woman cursed him soundly and stormed out to find the conductor and get her dog back.
An elderly gentleman was sitting across the aisle. He smiled at the Yank and said, "You Americans. You drive on the wrong side of the road, you eat with the wrong hand, and now you've thrown the wrong bitch out the window."