A Blessed Trip
A woman was at her hairdresser’s getting her hair done for a big trip to Rome with her husband. While chatting, she mentioned the upcoming vacation.
“Rome?” the hairdresser scoffed. “Why would anyone go there? It’s crowded and dirty! You’re wasting your time. So how are you getting there?”
“We’re flying Continental,” the woman replied. “We found a great rate!”
“Continental?” the hairdresser groaned. “Awful airline. Old planes, grumpy staff, and they’re always late. Where are you staying?”
“At a little boutique hotel on the Tiber River called Teste.”
“Oh no, I know that place. Everyone thinks it’s fancy, but it’s a dump.”
“Well, we’re planning to visit the Vatican… maybe even see the Pope.”
“That’s funny,” the hairdresser laughed. “You and a million others hoping to spot him. He’ll look like an ant from where you’ll be standing. Good luck on this miserable trip—you’ll need it.”
A month later, the woman returned for another appointment. The hairdresser asked how the trip went.
“It was wonderful,” the woman said. “Not only were we on time, but Continental had just upgraded their planes. The flight was overbooked, so they bumped us to first class. Amazing food, great wine, and the nicest young attendant you’ve ever met. And the hotel? Incredible! They’d just finished a huge renovation. Because they were overbooked too, they apologized and gave us the owner’s suite at no extra cost!”
“Hmph,” the hairdresser muttered. “Well… I know you didn’t actually get to see the Pope.”
“Funny you say that,” replied the woman. “While we were touring the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder. He said the Pope enjoys meeting a few visitors and asked me to wait in his private room. Five minutes later, the Pope walked in, shook my hand, and even spoke to me.”
The hairdresser leaned in. “Oh really? What did he say?”
The woman paused, then replied: “He looked at me kindly and asked… ‘Who messed up your hair?’”
