What in an American office comes across as being direct and businesslike comes across to the British as rude & pushy. You can't skip pleasantries and small talk, you can't skip the greetings or sign-offs when you write emails. Things like that.

[eta: I should say, it's probably unfair of me to generalize out from BBC employees to the British public at large. Auntie Beeb is an old and venerable institution with all the stuffiness and formality that implies. I'm sure there are plenty of younger companies in the UK where an American style of business communication would not result in one of the new sales assistants almost literally hiding under his desk for a week because he was too scared of me to respond to what I thought was a perfectly standard email. Seriously, this happened.]

Sounds like American South. I thought I was going to die from small talk when I moved back here.

You can't skip pleasantries and small talk, you can't skip the greetings or sign-offs when you write emails. Things like that.

Oh, dear. I would go mad having to do small talk all the time. But many people here would just adore working in a very chatty office full of un-pleasantries and tiny talk.

So it's not Americans, it's non-Southern/Western Americans.

edit: and it explains why I often have the reputation of not liking my co-workers. I never did understand why people wanted to hang out with all their co-workers for drinks after work.

Auntie Beeb is an old and venerable institution with all the stuffiness and formality that implies. I'm sure there are plenty of younger companies in the UK where an American style of business communication would not result in one of the new sales assistants almost literally hiding under his desk for a week because he was too scared of me to respond to what I thought was a perfectly standard email.

This cracks me up because Joe wants to work for Auntie Beeb after he finishes his degree.

Heh. We do have an LA office! He could help them figure out how to keep making money after we run out of countries to sell Dancing With the Stars to.

So it's not Americans, it's non-Southern/Western Americans.

Could just be New Yorkers...

I know I haven't been out of the city in too long when I get annoyed checking out at a convenience store in the 'burbs. In NJ they pick up the item, scan it, put it in the bag, repeat as necessary. Hit the total button, tell me how much, take my money and make change. Here? That's all one gesture.

I prefer it my way, that's why I live here. But I know I'm wound a little too tight when the extra 46 seconds of human interraction is driving me around the bend.

Oh, he wants to go to London and work there.

Oh, he wants to go to London and work there.

The London office has a Doctor Who themed conference room. Apropos of nothing.

Heh. We do have an LA office! He could help them figure out how to keep making money after we run out of countries to sell Dancing With the Stars to.

Can I make TV shows? Cool, awesome TV shows with, you know, awesomeness?

God, maybe I am too American for the Beeb. I can imagine the pitch meeting...

BBC: Now, tell us about your concept.

Me: It's awesome. So awesome. There's this awesome team of awesome people and what they do, see, is awesome stuff. I think with aliens. Maybe magic. But no monkeys. Maybe a robot. An awesome magic robot that does awesome stuff.

BBC: ...Sorry, I'm not following you...

Me: God! It's just AWESOME, okay?! Just give me the money and John Barrowman! What the fuck is the matter with you?!

BBC: I think we're done here.

Me: You know, if America had said that during World War Two, London would be a rubble-filled pit! So UN-awesome! Fuck!

BBC: Good day to you, sir.

Me: But...

BBC: I SAID GOOD DAY! Sorry, that sounded rude.