When negative people do their best to rain on
A woman was at her hairdresser's getting her
hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband.
She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who
" 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 al ways 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 it's gonna be
something special and exclusive, but it's
really a dump, the worst hotel in the city!
The rooms are small, the service is surly, and they're
overpriced. So, whatcha' doing when you get
"We're going to go to see the Vatican and we
hope 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."
&nb sp;A month later, the woman again came in for a
The hairdresser asked, "Well, how was your
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 ho tel 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: "Where'd you get the shitty hairdo?"