Americans friendly?

I went into Acme this morning, one of the most common supermarkets around these parts (PA), and I couldn't find a basket. I went up to a guy with the right badge and asked for one. He accompanied me into the lobby and found one, explaining on the way why they were so short. Apparently they keep getting stolen because people use them to shoplift. Pretty brazen. By the time I took my basket and had been told I was 'very welcome' (after thanking him), I felt pretty uplifted, I have to say. Later I went into Brew Ha Ha! in Trolley Square, Wilmington, a favourite haunt, to get coffee. The woman serving was mortified when she misremembered my usual order, the cup for which she had produced the instant I stepped into the cafe. Once again my spirits, which had been waning at the thought of term, supplemental exams, national wage agreements, the Middle East, GWB, Blair, Ahern, credit-card balances, hoovering, and goodness knows what else, started to rise. Yesterday a girl cheerfully put up with my endless indecision at a superb ice cream and custard store in New Jersey, helpfully enumerating her own favourites and accurately describing the contents of each of their infinitely wonderful and varied creations.

What more can I say? You will find this sort of response from time to time in Ireland, but you absolutely cannot count on it, and it often seems pretty grudging. Many other times the body language (and sometimes the spoken language!) in Ireland is telling you to go f**k yourself as you have the confounded cheek to ask for some service that in America is provided with a smile which, more often than not, seems perfectly sincere. And don’t even get me started on what you get when you enter these places where service is so cheerily provided. The ice cream, the selection, the value, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. God Bless America indeed!