10 June 2011 ~ 0 Comments

How much do I owe you for that haircut

A priest walked into a barber shop in Washington, D.C.  After he got his haircut, the priest asked how much he owed for the haircut. The barber said, “No charge. I consider it a service to the Lord.”   The next morning, the barber arrived at work and found twelve prayer books and a thank you note from the priest laying on the front steps of his shop.

Later that day, a police officer came in and got his hair cut. He then asked how he owed for the trim. The barber said, “No charge. I consider it a service to the community.”  The next morning, the barber arrived at work and found  a dozen donuts and a thank you note from the police officer sitting in front of his shop.

Then, a  Senator came in and got a haircut. When he was done he asked how he owed for the haircut. The barber said, “No charge. I consider it a service to the country.”  The next morning, the barber arrived at work and found twelve Senators waiting in line in front of his shop.

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19 February 2011 ~ 0 Comments

The Know it all Barber

A man was getting a haircut prior to a trip to Rome.  He mentioned the trip to the barber 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?”

“We’re taking TWA,” was the reply.  “We got a great rate!”

“TWA?” 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?”

“We’ll be at the downtown International Marriott.”

“That dump!  That’s the worst hotel in the city.  The rooms are small, the service is surly and they’re overpriced.  So, what are you going to do when you get there?”

“We’re going to go to see the Vatican and we hope 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 man again came in for his regular haircut.  The barber asked him about his trip to Rome.

“It was wonderful,” explained the man, “not only were we on time in one of TWA’s brand new planes, but it was over booked and they bumped us up to first class.  The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a beautiful 28 year old stewardess who waited on me hand and foot.  And the hotel-it was great!  They’d just finished a $25 million remodeling job and now it’s the finest hotel in the city.  They, too, were over booked, so they apologized and gave us the presidential suite at no extra charge!”

“Well,” muttered the barber, “I know you didn’t get to see the pope.”

“Actually, we were quite lucky, for as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder and explained that the pope likes to personally 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 as he spoke a few words to me.”

“Really?” asked the Barber. “What’d he say?”

He said, “Where’d you get the ugly haircut?

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