|Seriously, it smells like an apple's scrotum in here|
I don't hate all candles, just stinky, old, dusty, disfigured ones that punch me in the face with their stench. Who wants to smell spiced apples when it's practically summer? At least make your shitty candle seasonally appropriate. Throw me a clean linen or sea breeze, dude!
Where did he get it? Maybe it was a present from a co-worker at last year's Christmas party? Or, maybe his sister gave it to him for his birthday? Who knows?
I can't imagine him picking this thing out himself. Wait, let me picture it; there he is in Bed, Bath and Beyond sniffing the lot of 'em, trying to find the perfect house candle. That's kind of cute.
And, it's kind of cute to picture him fishing around for a match to light the thing before I came over. And, it's kind of cute to picture him tilting the candle to light the wick thinking, "Man, I am turning the romance in here up to 11! Wait 'til she gets a load of this. This is really gonna set the mood."
See? Right there when he mentally articulated "the mood" is where this candle thing became gross. What's next, massage oils? Barry White on the stereo? How about he lights some incense too so I can overwhelm ALL of my senses with these cheezy seduction techniques. It's like he learned how to woo a woman from reading the classified section of an alt-weekly newspaper. Yikes.