A woman was at her hair dresser 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 .  So,
how are you getting there?”

“We’re taking Continental,”
was the reply.  “We got a great rate!”

“Continental?” exclaimed
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 over on Rome’s Tiber River
called Teste.”

Don’t go any
further.  I know that place.  Everybody thinks
its gonna be something special and exclusive,
but it’s really a dump.”

“We’re going to go to see
the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope.”

“That’s rich,” laughed the
hairdresser.  You and a million other
people trying to see him.  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 woman
again came in for a hairdo.  The
hairdresser asked her about her trip to
Rome .

“It was wonderful,”
explained the woman, “not only were we on time
in one of Continental’s brand new planes,
but it was overbooked, and
they bumped us up to first class.
The food and wine were wonderful,
and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward
who waited on me hand and foot.
And the hotel was
great!  They’d just finished a $5 million
remodeling job, and now it’s a jewel, the
finest hotel in the city.    They, too, were
overbooked, 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 I
know you didn’t get to see the Pope.”

“Actually, 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 I’d be so kind as to step
into his private room and wait, the Pope
would personally greet me.
Sure enough, five minutes
later, the Pope walked through the door
and shook my hand!  I knelt down and
he spoke a few words to me.”

“Oh, really!  What’d he say ?”

He said: “Who fucked up your hair?”

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