If You Can’t Handle Me at My Worst, You Probably Aren’t Going to Like That I Keyed Your Car

It was Marilyn Monroe who once said, “If you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.”


I can really relate to this. Because the truth is, if you can’t handle me at my worst, you’re definitely not going to like that I dug my car keys clear across the side of your Honda Civic.


That’s right: I parked in your neighbor’s driveway sometime past ten, walked up to your car, tucked my house key between my forefinger and thumb, and sliced right through that passenger door like it was fresh bread. See, I contain multitudes, have my highs and my lows, and I like to think that my intensity is just part and parcel of my heightened ability to feel. I’m very empathic that way.


What can I say? I’m an unknowable feminine mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped around a handful of keys scraped across your car.


If you can’t handle me in all of my richness and contradictions, particularly during my dark moods wherein I’m prone to acts of aggression, then sorry, I’m not for you and you’re definitely not going to like that I defaced your vehicle in a moment of rage.


Have I mentioned that I’m an introvert?


My introverted nature is part of why I feel things so deeply. Right after skulking out into the night with a dozen eggs to smash into the windows of your car—which quickly froze in the winter air—I needed some “me” time to rest and recharge. Social interaction like this can be very taxing, but hey, I’m as loyal as they come, when I’m not at my worst and vandalizing cars.


I’m not religious, but I am intensely spiritual, so after puncturing your tires with a broken bottle of Bud Light Platinum, I paused to reflect on my space in nature. You know, we’re all just molecules, molecules that get excited and agitated and spin around Earth’s gravitational pull, leaving tire-popping chunks of glass and a little bit of diet beer in the driveway of the person they’re mad at that week.


The universe is beautiful, dangerous, and in violation of its parole—just like me.



I believe that you should never make someone a priority who only makes you an option, and at times the only option is to take that someone’s driver side mirror clean off with one good high kick. You’d better have some duct tape as strong as my spirit energy to patch that back together.


Being so in tune with my emotions means I’m great at reading others. So, I knew you were someone who can’t handle all of my quirks, especially the bad ones, and you’d really hate that I poured sugar into your gas tank before flipping you the bird and yelling “Fuck your mom!” loud enough for the entire block to hear. I live in the present. I never knew how strong I was, until I had to be. That sugar was heavy.


Sorry, this is just me. All of me. The good, the bad, the illegal. Take it or leave it, buster!