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Roma 26 August 1983
The Manager YMCA Hotel London, England
Dear Signore Direttore!
Now I am a- tella you a story how I was a treated at your Hotella. I am comma from Roma as tourist to London and stay as a younga Christien man at your Hotella. When I comma in my room I see there is no shit in my bed. How can I sleep with no shit in my bed? So I calla down to receptione and tella:
- I wanna shit.
They tella me:
- Go to toilet.
I say:
- No, no. I wanna shit in my bed.
They say:
- You better not shit in your bed, you sonnawabitch.
What is a sonnawabitch? I go down for brekfast into ristorante. I order bacon and eggs and two pisses of toast. I getta only one piss of toast. I tella waitress, and pointa to toast:
- I wanna piss.
She tella me:
- Go to toilet.
I say:
- No, no. I wanna piss on my plate.
She then say to me:
- You bloody hella not piss on the plate, you sonnawabitch!
Second person who do not even no me calla me sonnawabitch! What is a sonnawabitch? Later I go for dinner in your ristorante. Spoon and knife is laid out, but no fock. I tella waitress:
- I wanna fock. And she tella me:
- Sure, everyone wanna fock.
I tella her:
- No, no. You dont understand me. I wanna fock on the table.
She tella me:
- You sonnawabitch wanna fock on the table? Get your ass out of here.
So I go to receptione and ask for bill. I no wanna stay in this hotella no more. When I have paid the billa, the portier say to me:
- Thank you and peace on you!
I say:
- Well, piss on you too, you sonnawabitch.
I go back to Italy. I never more comma stay your hotella no more, you sonnawabitch.
Sincerely
Enrico Morelli.
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