Bill bryson, an american writer who had lived in britain for ten years, returned to the usa to rediscover his homeland. he borrowed his mother’s old chevrolet and drove 13,978 miles through 38 states, keeping mainly to side roads and small towns. this is bryson’s description of a meal in a town called littleton in new hampshire. it was the friendliest little place i had ever seen. i went into the topic of the town restaurant. the other customers smiled at me, the lady at the cash register showed me where to put my jacket, and the waitress, a plump little lady, couldn’t do enough for me. she brought me a menu and i made the mistake of saying thank you. “you’re welcome,” she said. once you start this there’s no stopping. she came and wiped the table with a damp cloth. “thank you,” i said. “you’re welcome,” she said. she brought me some cutlery wrapped in a paper napkin. i hesitated but i couldn’t stop myself. “thank you,” i said. “you’re welcome,” she said. i ordered the fried chicken special. as i waited i became uncomfortably aware that the people at the next table were watching me and smiling at me in a slightly crazy way. the waitress was watching me too. every few minutes she came over and asked if everything was all right. then she filled my glass with iced water and told me my food would only be a minute. “thank you,” i said. “you’re welcome,” she said. finally the waitress came out of the kitchen with a tray the size of a table-top and started putting plates of food in front of me – soup, a salad, a plate of chicken, a basket of hot bread rolls. it all looked delicious. suddenly i realized i was starving. the waitress wanted to know if she could get me anything else. “no, this is just fine, thank you.” i answered with my knife and fork ready to attack the food. “would you like some ketchup? ” “no, thank you.” “would you like some more dressing for your salad? ” “no, thank you.” “have you got enough gravy? ” there was enough gravy to drown a horse. “yes, plenty of gravy, thank you.” “how about a cup of coffee? ” “really i’m fine.” “you’re sure there’s nothing i can do for you? ” “well, you might just push off and let me eat my dinner,” i wanted to say, but i didn’t of course. i just smiled sweetly and said no thank you. 11 after living abroad for a long time, bryson wanted to a bring him some coffee. 12 he feels that once you’ve started saying thank you, you b looked at him. 13 he was uncomfortable about the way people c like some ketchup. 14 when the food came he wanted to d got enough gravy. 15 the waitress asked if he would e ask for some more. 16 she wanted to know if he f could do for him. 17 she asked if he had g go away. 18 she wondered if she could h have to continue. 19 bryson was sure there was nothing the waitress i eat, not talk. 20 he didn’t really tell the waitress to j like some more chicken. k get to know the usa again. l would like some more dressing.

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