Yes, I'm American

I keep forgetting that I live in another country. That I'M the foreigner.
Last night was a nice reminder though!
While dancing at Room 26, I felt like I was on display, like I was the circus people come to watch.
Men would walk by me shouting 'AMERICANA' 'AMERICANA'!
Then they would stare, or try and dance with me.

Che cazzo.....

Yes, I'm American.
But how the HECK can they tell???
Im dressed up, I have brown hair, I'm wearing heels....I'm not drunk or making a scene.
So, the million dollar question is:

"What makes me American"

Too me, I see no differences.
To get the answer, I went to the source: An Italian!
I asked Vincenzo in the car today about this issue, and if there is something I can do to resolve it.
He said simply

"Your face. That's how we can tell."

MY FACE?!

I laughed when he said that.
I can't change my face now can I?
Basically I'm screwed. 
Yes I'm American. Yes I'm foreign.... Time to live with it I guess!