Kristen has already written about Sarah, who rescues turtles in Costa Rica. While she focused on the good, selfless animal-related work, I am going to be nitpicky about social behavior and the English language, as usual.
After dinner, I forget who left first, but as they were walking out, they told Sarah, "Good luck with the turtles." Hearing that, I realized that, had I been leaving just then, I probably would have also told Sarah, "Good luck with the turtles."
It turns out everybody says "Good luck with the turtles" when they leave Sarah. Sometimes it's "Say hi to the turtles," but usually it's "Good luck." Such is the nature of casual conversation when people know about your memorable job but very little else about you. At book signings, Neal Pollack is queried about his fictional weblog characters. I work at a children's science museum, so people often ask, "How are the dinosaurs?" when they see me. It's a clever thing to say, only it's actually not, since everyone has the same faux-clever reaction.
My job which requires me to have similar brief conversations with a constant stream of visitors throughout the day. I'm always conveying nearly the same bits of information every time: restrooms are at the bottom of the stairs; we close at 5 pm; yes you have to pay parking in advance; ha ha no only on weekends. Invariably, I say the same things over and over again, like a robot or a philosophical zombie, especially "Thanks" and "Have fun." I say thank you if I get a pen back from a visitor, if they tell me how many adult chaperones are coming in, if they purchase a membership, if they say "thank you" to me. The last usage tends to throw people off - they expect a "you're welcome" or at worst a "No problem."
In response, I have developed many faux-clever things to break up the monotony. I tell schoolchildren that they can't eat in the exhibits because a T. Rex once ate a kid's peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich. I tell parents that two-year-olds are free because toddlers are deadbeats who can't hold a job. And visitors smile at my "witticisms," not knowing that I've repeated that same joke ten times already that day.
What I'm recommending is, when interacting with charming British biologists, look past the knee-jerk "clever" response. Instead of wishing Sarah fortune with her turtles, tell her how, even though turtles are quite slow, you felt that the two of you became friends quite quickly. Or, compliment her on coming out of her shell. Or focus on her beauty: "Sarah, as loyal as you are to the turtles, in a competition of personal loveliness, your hare would be the winner."
What I'm recommending when interacting with parents of dinosaur-mad youths is just shut up and give them their damn change, OK Sean?