Joan was at her hairdresser's getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband. She mentioned the trip to her hairdresser, who responded: "Rome? Why would anyone want to go to Rome? It's crowded, smelly, and dirty. You're crazy to go there.
So, how are you getting there?”
"We're flying United” was the reply. "We got a great rate!”
“United?" exclaimed the hairdresser." United is a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late. Where are you staying in Rome?”
"We'll be at this exclusive little place over on the Tiber River called Taste.”
"Don't go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks it's gonna be something special and exclusive, but it's a total 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. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it.”
A month later, Joan was back again at the hairdresser's. The beautician asked her about her trip to Rome.
"It was wonderful," explained Joan, "not only were we on time in one of United’s brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were terrific, and we had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on us hand and foot...
The Taste hotel was great too! They'd just finished a $5 million remodeling, 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 us.
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 screwed up your hair?