A man walked in to a Barber Shop for his regular haircut. As he snips away, the barber asks “What’s up?”
The man proceeds to explain he’s taking a vacation to Rome. “ROME?!” says the barber, “Why would you want to go there? It’s a crowded dirty city full of mafiosos! You’d be crazy to go to Rome! So how ya getting there?” “We’re taking TWA” the man replies.
“TWA?!” yells the barber. “They’re a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly and they’re always late! So where you staying in Rome?” The man says “We’ll be at the downtown International Marriot.” “That DUMP?!” says the barber. “That’s the worst hotel in the city! The rooms are small, the service is surly and slow and they’re overpriced! So whatcha doing when you get there?” The man says “We’re going to go see the Vatican and hope to see the Pope.”
“HA! That’s rich!” laughs the barber. “You and a million other people trying to see him. He’ll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on THIS trip. You’re going to need it!”
A month later, the man comes in for his regular haircut.
The barber says, “Well, how did that trip to Rome turn out? Bet TWA gave you the worst flight of your life!” “No, quite the opposite” explained the man. “Not only were we on time in one of their brand new planes, but it was full and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a beautiful 28 year old flight attendent who waited on me hand and foot!”
“Hmmm,” says the barber , “Well, I bet the hotel was just like I described.”
“No, quite the opposite! They just finished a $25 million remodeling. Its the finest hotel in Rome, now. They were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us the Presidential suite for no extra charge!”
“Well,” the barber mumbles, “I KNOW you didn’t get to see the Pope!”
“Actually, we were quite lucky. As we toured the Vatican, a Swiss guard tapped me on the shoulder and explained the Pope likes to personally meet some of the visitors, and if I’d be so kind as to step into this private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me. Sure enough, after 5 minutes the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand. I knelt down as he spoke a few words to me.”
Impressed, the barber pleads, “Tell me, please! What did he say?”
“He just said: ‘Where did you get that goddamned, awful haircut?'”