Weird Conversations

I was walking along the hospital corridors on a weekend, wearing fairly form-fitting jeans and a blouse, when I heard, “Sister! Sister!” I walked on, telling myself that no right-thinking person would address me as Sister. The call came again, more insistent, “Sister!” I turned. It was a middle-aged woman. I waited for her to catch up, thinking she probably needed directions. Instead, this happened, and in my native language, no less:
She: Good afternoon.
Me: Good afternoon.
She: Why do you like wearing trousers?
Me: What would you prefer me to wear?
She: God hates trousers, God does not want you to wear trousers.
Me: Okay.
She: BURN IT.
Me, walking away: Okay.