Rome
This is something to think about when negative people are doing their
best to rain on your parade. So remember this story the next time someone
who knows nothing and cares less makes your life miserable.
A woman was at her hairdresser's getting her hair styled for a trip to
Rome. She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded, "Rome?
Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty and full of
Italians. You're crazy to go to Rome. So, how are you getting there?"
"Continental," was the reply. "I got a great rate!"
"Continental?" exclaimed the hairdresser. "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."
"Don't go any further." I know that place. Everybody thinks it's going to
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?"
"Going to go to see the Vatican and I hope 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, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser
asked her about her trip to Rome.
"It was wonderful," exclaimed the woman, "not only were we on time in one
of Continental'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
handsome 28-year-old steward 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, too, were overbooked,
so they apologized and gave me 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, I was quite lucky, because as I was touring the Vatican , a
Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder and explained that the Pope likes
to meet some of the visitors and would I be so kind as to step into his
private room and wait for 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, really! What'd he say?"
He said, "Where'd you get the shitty hairdo?"
