Avventures of Italianos in England
Dear Signor Diretorre
Now I am tella you the story how I was treated at your hotella. I am comma from Palermo as tourist to London and stay as younga man at your hotella.
When I comma in my room I see is no shit in my bed. How can I sleep with no shit in my bed? I calla down the recepcione and tella: "I wanna shit". They tell me:
"Go to the toillett". I say: "No, no, I wanna shit in my bed". They say: "You betta not
shit in your bed, you sonnawabitch".
I go down for ristorante for breakfast. I order bacon and eggs and two pisses of toast. I getta only one piss of toast. I tella waitress and pointa of toast: "I wanna piss". She tella me: "Go to the toillett". I say: "No, no, I wanna piss on my plate". She then say to me: "You bloody fella not piss on the plate, you
sonnawabitch". Second person who do not even know me and calla me sonnawabitch!
What is sonnawabitch!?
Later I go for dinner into ristorante. Spoon and knife is laid out but no fock.
I tella waitress: "I wanna fock" and she tella me: "Sure everybody wanna fock".
I tella her: "No, no, you don't understand me. I wanna fock on the table". She then tella me: "So you sonnawabitch, wanna fock on the table? Get your ass out of here".
So I go to the recepcione and ask for the billa. I no wanna stay in this hotella no more. When I have pay the billa, the porter say to me: "Thank you, and peace on you". I say: "Piss on you too, you sonnawabitch". I go back to Italy! I never more comma stay in your hotella, you sonnawabitch.
Sincerely,
Enrico Morelli
