"A woman was at her hairdresser getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband. She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded,
"Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty. You're crazy to go to Rome. How are you getting there?"
"We're taking Continental," the woman replied. "We got a great rate!"
"Continental," asked the hairdresser? That's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late. So where are you staying in Rome?"
"We'll be at this exclusive little place on the Tiber River called ‘Teste.’ "
"Don't go any further,” the hairdresser said. “I know that place. Everybody thinks it’s something special and exclusive, but it's really nothing but a dump."
"We're also going to go to the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope," the woman said.
"That's rich," laughed the hairdresser! You and a million other people all trying to see him at the same time. He'll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."
A month later the same woman came into the salon again for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome.
"It was wonderful," explained the woman. "We were on one of Continental's brand new planes, but it was overbooked so they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful and I had a handsome young steward who waited on me hand and foot. And the hotel was also great! They'd just finished a $5 million remodeling job and now it's the finest hotel in the city! They were overbooked also, so they apologized and gave us their owner's suite at no extra charge!”
"Well," muttered the hairdresser, "that's all well and good, but of course you didn't get to see the Pope, right?"
"Actually,” replied the woman, “we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors and if we’d be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet us! Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook our hands! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me. It was FABULOUS!"
“Oh, really,” asked the hairdresser? “What'd he say?"
“He said, ‘Who messed up your hair?’
"Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty. You're crazy to go to Rome. How are you getting there?"
"We're taking Continental," the woman replied. "We got a great rate!"
"Continental," asked the hairdresser? That's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late. So where are you staying in Rome?"
"We'll be at this exclusive little place on the Tiber River called ‘Teste.’ "
"Don't go any further,” the hairdresser said. “I know that place. Everybody thinks it’s something special and exclusive, but it's really nothing but a dump."
"We're also going to go to the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope," the woman said.
"That's rich," laughed the hairdresser! You and a million other people all trying to see him at the same time. He'll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."
A month later the same woman came into the salon again for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome.
"It was wonderful," explained the woman. "We were on one of Continental's brand new planes, but it was overbooked so they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful and I had a handsome young steward who waited on me hand and foot. And the hotel was also great! They'd just finished a $5 million remodeling job and now it's the finest hotel in the city! They were overbooked also, so they apologized and gave us their owner's suite at no extra charge!”
"Well," muttered the hairdresser, "that's all well and good, but of course you didn't get to see the Pope, right?"
"Actually,” replied the woman, “we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors and if we’d be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet us! Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook our hands! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me. It was FABULOUS!"
“Oh, really,” asked the hairdresser? “What'd he say?"
“He said, ‘Who messed up your hair?’
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