Her smile was warm. Genuine. It caught me off guard for a brief moment, but I pushed past that feeling.
“I just wanted to speak with you for a moment,” I continued. “This is a place of worship, and we try to maintain a certain standard of appearance here. Some of your… choices might not be the most appropriate for church.”
The words sounded rehearsed, even to my own ears.
For a second, she simply looked at me. Not angrily. Not defensively. Just directly.
Then she replied, her voice steady and clear, “How I look has nothing to do with you.”