The Pope
The Pope arrives at JFK and he's met at a baggage claim by a driver
in a bad suit and a clip-on tie, holding a hand-lettered sign that says,
"Pope."
After getting all the Pope's luggage loaded in the limo -- and His
Holiness doesn't travel light -- the driver notices that the Pope is
still standing on the curb.
"Hey, Mr. Pope," says the driver in accented English, "why have you
not seated yourself in the excellent limo?"
"Well, to tell you the truth," says the Pope, "they never let me drive
at the Vatican, and I'd really like to drive."
"That is very much against the rules!" protested the driver, wishing
he'd never left Calcutta.
"There might be something extra in it for you," said the Pope.
Reluctantly, the driver got in the back as the Pope got in behind the
wheel. The driver quickly regretted his decision when, after clearing
the airport, the Pope accelerated the limo to 105 mph.
"Please be driving not so rapidly, Mr. Pope," pleaded the worried
driver, but the Pope kept the pedal to the metal. Then they heard the
siren.
"Oh, my Gods, now I am surely losing my license," moaned the driver.
The Pope pulled over and rolled down the window as the patrolman
approached, but the cop took one look at him, went back to his
motorcycle, and got on the radio. "I need to talk to the Chief," he said
to the dispatch.
When the Chief got on the radio, the cop told him that he'd stopped a
limo going a hundred and five.
"So bust him," said the Chief.
"I think the guy's a big shot," said the cop.
"All the more reason."
"No, I mean really a big shot," said the cop.
"What'd ya got there, the Mayor?"
"Bigger."
"Governor."
"Bigger."
"Well," said the Chief, "who is it?"
"I don't know," said the cop. "But he's got the Pope driving for him."
