The Manager
Y.M.C.A.-Hotel
LONDON

Roma 28 sept. 1981

Dear Signore Direttore,

Noew I am tella you story wot I was a-treated at jour hotella.

I am a-comma from Roma as tourist to London and stay as a-younga christian 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 wanta shit”. They tella me:

“Go to toilet”. I say:

“No, no I wanta shit in my bed”. They say:

“You’d better not shit in your bed, you sonna-wa-bitch”.

What is sonna-wa-bitch?

I go down for breakfast into restorante. I order bacon and egga and two pissis of toast. I getta only one piss of toast. I tella waitress, and point at toast: “I wanta piss”. She tella me:

“Go to toilet”. I say:

“No, no I wanta piss on my plate”. She then say to me:

“You’d bloody wella not piss on the plate, you sonna-wa-bitch”.

That is the second person who do not even know me calla me “sonna-wa-bitch”, and why is your staff replying “Go to toilet”, is that a modern tella? I do no understand, please tella me!

Later I go for dinner in your restorante. Spoon and knife is laid out, but no fock. I tella waitress:

“I wanta fock”. And she tella me:

“Sure, everyone wanta fock”. I tella her:

“No, no you don’t understanda me, I wanta fock on the table”. She tella me:

“So you sonna-wa-bitch wanta fock on the table? Get your ass out of here!”

How comma this christian hotell tella the guest in such bed manner?

So I go to receptione and ask for bill. I no wanta stay in this hotel no more. When I have paid the a-billa the portier say to me:

“Thank you, and piss on You”. I say:

“Piss on you too, you sonna-wa-bitch, I now go back to Italy”.

Direttore, I never gonna stay in your hotella no more, you sonna-wa-bitch.

Sincerely
Dicci Elgré