Dear Marriot Hotels,

I've just finished a stay at your wonderful hotel in Toronto and wanted to drop you a note to let you know how wonderful your housekeeping staff was.

About a month ago, I impregnated my fourteen year old niece and, for obvious reasons desperately need to abort the fetus. Because of my relation to her I could not have this done professionally and, besides, I didn't really want to see her again anyway. I'd had her try several methods on her own, from springing off the mattress onto the waiting leg of an overturned coffee table to having homeless folk take turns beating her gut-wise with the back of a standard dirt-shovel. Nothing worked. Finally I rented a room at your sporty hotel, purchased some antique medical supplies from a pawn shop as well as some culinary tools and went to work on her myself. The problem was that all her previous ill-fated attempts at aborting the child had caused hideous damage to her young girl-parts. Quite frankly, her vagina looked like someone kicked a hole in the side of a rotting hog's carcass. I'd sterilized a grapefruit spoon with some over-the-counter anti-fungal that I use on my feet and, after a cursory scraping of the up-and-in parts, she started to bleed like a Tarantino film. Well, heck, I'm no doctor so I figured I better just get the hell out of there when your housekeeping woman came into the room. She was a springy little Costa Rican whose name I, unfortunately, did not catch.

"You need ser-veece?" she asked with an innocent smile. "Could you just clean up this area?" I asked while my hand waved in a circle large enough to include the delusional girl spitting crimson from down low. "Oh, and extra hand towels, too." "No problem" she said with a slight bowing of the head as she went about gathering cleaning products from her cart and I bee-lined for the bank of elevators.

I had my morning All-Bran and Earl Grey, along with the paper (kudos on the complimentary USA Today, even in Canada!) And after an hour or so I went back to the room and I'll be dipped in beeswax if she hadn't aborted the child, stabilized the bleeding, forged a prescription for anti-biotics and two different painkillers (which I kept for myself) and left the room as immaculate as the minute I walked in. I was damn impressed, if you'll excuse the language. So impressed, mind you, that I left a 3 dollar gratuity on the nightstand before checking out. Excessive perhaps, but I thought it was well deserved. The best part is that she chased me down at the front desk thinking my tip was an oversight on my part and tried to return the money! How adorable! You need to tell me where you find such incredible staff. I only wish I'd thought to ask her name so you'd know who to pass my deepest gratitude on to.


Thank you again,

Doug Stanhope