Yankee Candle

Service was great… Smells amazing… loved the amber sunset from the home collection. Can’t wait to go back

Yet another journey down the highway of domestic life… driving the speed limit on THE WAY BACK FROM A STRAWBERRY FESTIVAL (his hand in mine), I made a confession. Keep in mind, that I don’t think I’m terribly white bread, but I have a secret… I *really* love engulfing the wick of a Yankee Candle in flames when alls quiet in the ice dungeon of Chloe D.
Me:“Um so, I kinda sorta need a new candle” (avoids eye contact).
Dave: «You know *what*, I actually need a new one too»
Me: ” !!!“
The funny thing about this particular locale, is not so much that it’s practically attached to a Christmas Tree Shop (pe?) off Rt 1S, it’s the fact that the building is made to look like the hull of a ship and also houses a store providing bonnets and baby yellow onesies to your spawn and a fried seafood restaurant. Ummmm que? Walking in, we’re made aware of a sale by an employee and left to roam the store stopping to smell every candle put forth. Root beer float? BARF. Baby Power? PERVY. Berry Jam? Smells like a fruit rollup. This one smells like a dirty hippie. This one smells like my Grandma. Too soapy. Too pretty. Too sweet.
But now and again, you’ll roll past a cart carrying a shortbread candle, and when your boyfriend has an affinity towards shortbread, it’s romance. While I usually roll with some variety of vanilla based scent like buttercream or crème brûlée… I wandered ever so closely to the orange and starfruit candle I had purchased a few votives of a month or so back. Grabs housewarmer jar, ends up knocking a sign off the shelf and am told by an employee «Don’t worry about it, we tear this place up all the time», I fix the sign, smile, inhale… Mmmmmm…and the sales associate lets me know that if I like that one, I should check out Mango Peach Salsa.
Ummm. A salsa candle? I’m all for spicyness, but this sounded like something even Pinche would frown upon. Not to mention, I rarely agree with a salesperson’s opinions on what they think I’d like. It’s like being at Lush, and having some hippie drippie accost me with some sort of mint/​oatmeal/​sage/​butter/​catfish/​jojoba/​ylang-​ylang face scrub shoved in my face. But lo! Magic. I inhale, share with boy, take another whiff of the orange starfruit, and I’m torn, so torn. I decide to roll with the mango, even though it has salsa in it’s name. Awkward. I’ve just agreed with a salesperson who wasn’t trying to pressure me into something? Wow.
So. In conclusion, I bake pies, I sometimes get scared in the dark, and I like Yankee Candle. But I still don’t like lamerz.