One year, long ago, someone in Hushville took pity on a couple of Rainbows who had shown up with nothing, not even a change of clothing, fed them, gave them water. They hung around like stray dogs. One ended up in my shade structure one evening, eating our food from our food bin, loudly chatting and generally being annoying, because one of my campmates had been nice to her earlier. Everyone had left, except for this girl and someone else's playa wife (guy with the most irritating laugh ever). I tossed their asses out, in my mean berzerker way when I am woken up. (For those who have never witnessed it, I am a spectacular example of irrationality in the moment).
The next day, she was sitting outside a tent next to us, making a cardboard begging sign with borrowed Sharpies and what looked like a cardboard box my friend had been using to pack in his water containers. I had a "Will Play for Mushrooms" shirt on, mostly ironically, because I never have had access to shrooms out there. "Oh, you have mushrooms?" in that high pitched question~y little girl tone. I growled, "Oh hell no. And if I did, I wouldn't give them to you. You don't deserve them." She was flabbergasted and had no clue why she was making me so very angry.
I would not have allowed her to die, but I surely was not going to make life easy for her, and felt no need to be nice to her. That sounds bitchy, but as far as I was concerned, the campmates had left the "front door" open, and I had to toss a stranger out of my living room.
Some sunshine, some dust, a little paint and a tutu. Yeah.