The Manager

Y.M.C.A- Hotel
LONDON
Roma 28 Sept. 1981
Dear Signore Direttore,
Now I am tella you story wot I was a-treted at your hotella. I am a-comma from Roma as tourist to London and stay a-younga christian man at your hotella. When I comma in my room I see there is no shit in the bed - how can I sleep with no shit in my bed? So I calla down to receptione and tella. "I want shit." They tella me: "Go to the 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-a-bitch?
I go down for breakfast into ristorante. I order bacon and egga and to pissiis of toast. I getta only one piss of toast. I tella waitress, and point at toast: "I wanta piss." She tella me: "Go to the 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 know me calla me "sonna-wa-bitch," and why is your staff replying "go to the toilet," is that a modern tella? I do not understand, please tella me!