I had just arrived in the locker room, readying myself for a morning workout when I heard, “Nice haircut.”
Looking around, I noticed a naked guy drying himself with a towel and staring at me. “Where did you get your haircut? I like the way it looks.”
You have to understand something. Guys rarely compliment another guy’s hair, especially in a locker room. Guys look at the T.V., check the clock, talk about work and sports and superficial stuff—and never, ever, ever, compliment another man’s hair.
Feeling rather odd and uncomfortable with his comment I answered, “Uh, thanks.”
“Who cuts your hair?”
He continued to dry himself off. I tried to ignore him by looking at the clock and watching the T.V., then answered in a too loud voice, “My WIFE and I have a friend who comes over to the house to cut our hair. My whole FAMILY gets their hair cut by her.”
I thought that would send a signal. It didn’t.
“Yeah, your hair lays really nice…”
“Thanks. I’M A PASTOR RIGHT UP THE STREET AT HOPE CHAPEL.”
Undeterred and still unclothed, he persisted with a different tact.
“The Good Lord is doing some good things at Hope Chapel.”
Now, most Christians don’t call the good Lord, “Good Lord,” so I took this opportunity to see where he was with the Lord. But I really wanted him to put on some pants. “Yes, I’ve been there for about 17 years.”
He spewed out an expletive, then declared that he was a blankety-blank Christian. He used the S-word and dropped the F-bomb again while complaining how hard it was to live the Christian life, but that he admired me for living it—or something like that.
“You know… the Bible says that we should not let any unwholesome talk come out of our mouths…” I said in my most subtle self-righteous way. “And I’m confused at the way that you are speaking since you are a brother.”
“We all have our ways of interpreting the Bible,” he replied, wrapping a towel around himself finally.
End of conversation. I headed to my workout, mussing up my hair a little.
Paul Latour
Steve Sanchez