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, " Rome..!! Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty. You're crazy to go to Rome. Who are you flying there with?"

"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 (very true by the way), and they're always late. 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 going to 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. 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 so 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 refurbishment job, and now it's a jewel. The finest hotel in the city. They too were overbooked, so they apologised and gave us their penthouse suite at no extra charge!"

"Well," muttered the hairdresser, "that's all well and good, but I bet you didn't get to see the Pope."

"Actually, we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard started talking to us and said that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors. He then asked if we'd like to meet him in his private quarters. 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 the fuck did your hair?"