<Rolling up sleeves and handing his jacket to a bystander> RIGHT...
First off, this Brit always rinses the soap off his dishes when he washes them. The way he was taught as a kid. I have never detected soap on dishes, or anywhere else it shouldn't be in the UK, except when smoking Gagsworth & Horrible blends.
Secondly, we like fresh eggs: a bit of poo and feather on the shell reassures us of their recent production. As someone else already said, we don't obsess about washing food containers.
Thirdly: I do admit we find it hard to end a conversation. If I happen to meet my next door neighbour on the track down to the road, we will start by asking after each other's health, then our family's, then having exhausted the subject of the long-range weather forecast and how our crops are doing, after half an hour we're bitching about how the County Council and/or the government is wasting our tax money, and what ought to be done about the war in Ukraine, whether Greg Wallace is misunderstood, (etc).
Fourthly: Apologizing (see what I did there?) for being bumped into or whatever, is a thing you mostly find in the southern counties of England, and especially among the genteel middle class. It's a regional/cultural/class thing. What they are thinking will be something quite different. Further north, we tend to speak as we find. Southerners think us boorish: we might consider them two-faced, and ourselves as forthright and honest.
Fifthly: I also admit British building specifications are shit: modern partition walls seem to be made of hardboard with a thin plaster skim. This is why I have never willingly lived anywhere that was built after the First World War. Older walls are much thicker - but try hammering a nail into the wall of a much older property and you never know whether you're going to hit an engineering brick, a random concrete patch, or go right through a section of mouldy chestnut lath and tired lime plaster. Unlike you, we let our old buildings stand until they fall down. Well, mostly.
But to be fair, I'm minded of what a friend from Kansas City said when she came to stay with us: she described the UK as like being in a parallel reality - which, in a way, it is. Now, it's my turn to generalise (did you see that?) about our Cousins Across The Water (and yes, I have several, between MI and FL):
1. Your tea is a disaster. I think the deficient method of infusion in lukewarm water is hardwired into your DNA ever since that episode in Boston Harbour in 1773 revolutionised (did you see that?) tea-making as a national tradition.
2. You do not understand bacon. It should be cut thick, cooked slowly, and not cremated into charred brittleness.
3. You follow that dyslexic Daniel Webster, when you had Samuel Johnson to guide you in spelling.
4. Your car indicator lights are the same colour as your brake lights. That's not only stupid, it's downright dangerous. As well as driving on the wrong side of the road: I suppose it's your national collective karma for slavishly following everything the French did because they too were at war with us.
5. The stripes on your (neck)ties (FFS, where else does one wear a tie?) run the wrong way.
6. TV: Yes, our programmes can be about as inane as yours (if not more so), but at least when our commercial breaks are finished, we can still remember what was happening in the show before the break started.
Summary: You folk do things differently from us, despite having been shown how to do them right, out of a deliberate perversity and as a laughable protestation of cultural independence, I reckon. I worked under a Lt/Cdr USN when my Brit equivalent went to Washington on a one-year exchange trip. They both came back with culture-shock, but - mind you, I was really sorry when the Yankee officer had to go, and when mine came back
