Candles and Kind

I was trying to think of an excuse to throw a party. Searching for a reason to entertain, it occurred to me that moving into a new apartment might be reason enough. This is my new home and I really want to celebrate. The only thing that scares me about having a "moving in" party is that people might bring me house-warming presents, which is fine. But I don't really trust anyone else's idea of what I might like. Most of the people I know have horrid taste. But there is one house warming gift that I do find charming, no matter who the giver is: candles. I love candles, love the look, love the flame, love the aromatherapy... So, I asked Mitch what he thought of my throwing a "Candles Only House Warming."

"Funny you should ask," said Mitch. "I happen to know someone who did the exact same thing." Mitch was serious and in a storytelling mood. "Her name was Nina and she had just moved into a new apartment in Silver Lake. Nina was a massage therapist and kind of a hippy chick, so she insisted on candles. Like you, she had already established herself in town and had no use for another blender or what the hell it is that people give when someone rents a new hole... Anyway, the party was cool. Lots of freaky people showed up and they all brought candles, candle-holders, lighters, incense, all that shit. Nina was stocked. That bitch had more wax than the Wax Museum!"

At this point, Mitch started fumbling around for a cigarette. I watched him, fascinated by his inability to talk and smoke at the same time. He lit a cigarette and looked up at me. "What?"

"I'm fascinated by your inability to smoke and talk at the same time." I replied.

"Ha ha," said Mitch. "You're so funny!"

"Sarcasm is as attractive as leprosy, asshole. Tell me what happened with Nina."

"What do you think happened? She burnt up."

"Huh?"

"Yeah. The night after the big house party, Nina lit a shitload of candles. Then she smoked a bowl and ran a bath. After her bath, she got out of the tub and slipped, knocked over a table full of candles, hit her head and died in the fire. Her whole place went up really fast, at least according to the arson report."

"You read that?"

"I was undercover at the time." Somehow, I knew better than to pursue the conversation at that point. And I knew that I wouldn't be throwing a candle themed party any time soon. Mitch's little story served it's purpose and now I am totally freaked out about lighting candles. I guess I am safe, as long as I don't go for the Oprah perfect bath. Candles and Kind do not mix. Then again, maybe Nina should have let people give whatever they wanted to. Maybe she would have received a bath mat or a sprinkler system.