A guy was at the barber shop getting his hair cut before going on vacation. The barber asked where he was going and he replied, “Rome.”
“Rome?” said the barber. “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?”
“United,” was the reply. “I got a great rate!”
“United?” exclaimed the barber. “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?”
“I’ll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome’s Tiber River called Trans Tevre.”
“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.”
“Well, I’m not going there for the hotel, I’m going to the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope.”
“That’s rich,” laughed 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 lousy trip of yours, you’re going to need it.”
A month later, the guy comes in again and the barber asks about his trip to Rome.
“It was wonderful,” says the guy.
“Not only were we on time in one of United’s brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped me up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a gorgeous young stewardess 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 were overbooked too, so they apologized and gave me their Presidential suite at no extra charge!”
“Well,” muttered the barber, “that’s all well and good, but I know you didn’t get to see the Pope.”
“Actually, I was quite lucky, because as I 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? What’d he say?” asked the barber.
“He said, ‘Who the heck cut your hair?'”