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The Pessimist and the Pope

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, who responded: 'Rome? 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?

We're taking Continental. We got a great rate!

Continental?  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?

We'll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome's Tiber River called Teste.

I know that place. Everybody thinks it's gonna be something special and exclusive, 
but it's really a dump, the worst hotel in the city! The rooms are small, the service is surly, 
and they're overpriced. So, whatcha' doing when you get there?

We're going to go to see the Vatican and we hope to see the Pope.

That's rich.  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 woman again came in for another hair appointment. 
The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome.

It was wonderful - 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 a handsome 28-year-old steward 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, too, were overbooked, so they apologized 
and gave us their Presidential Suite at no extra charge!'

Well, 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 said that the Pope sometimes likes to meet visitors, and if I stepped 
into this private room, the Pope would personally greet me.  Sure enough, five minutes later, 
the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand and he spoke a few words to me.

Oh, really! What'd he say?'

He said: 'Where'd you get the shitty hairdo?'

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