Grace and a haircut

I regret that I don't remember his name, but it was 25 years ago. We worked together in the customer service department at MCI and sometimes on breaks had really great conversations. We were about the same age and might have become good friends except for the fact that he was a gay man and I was a zealous fundamentalist Christian intent on converting everyone to Jesus. Stereotypically, he moonlighted as a hair stylist and he invited me to visit the salon where he worked on Capital Hill for a discounted haircut. Being poor, and in the interest of evangelism, I took him up on the offer. This was my chance to save him, so--while he snipped and combed and buzzed and gave me a great haircut--I explained to him that he was going to go to Hell if he did not repent from his "lifestyle." Amazingly, after essentially telling him he was an abomination, I did not walk out with a reverse mohawk. It took me a long time to realize the extent of the grace he had given to me and that it was he who had been the more Christ-like.