Sconces & Candles

Upon crossing the threshold and entering the quiet studio, I start wondering what I've gotten myself into. She kisses well enough to lure me back to her place, and the years since college have kindly enhanced her figure, but something is odd. There aren't any pictures, posters, or art on the walls. Now, I can't really comment because my walls are barren and my room is more sterile than inviting, but I've got different reasons for that. The studio apartment is nice, and her country furniture goes well with the deep tones of her bedding and matches her chaise/lounge couch. It's not that. It's her candle fixation. Candles perched on sconces at every turn, and dried wax morphed like hardened lava being pulled by gravity downward. Even her "chandelier" above her elevated kitchen table/work area is void of light bulbs, equipped with tea lights instead. So when she turned out the lights and lit only three of these candles you can imagine my concern with her pyromaniac tendencies.

I don't get it. Why do girls love candles? It's like every girl's dream is to acquire more candles and scents than Yankee Candle. She was really a nice girl, and it had nothing to do with her piercing voice or being self-conscious about her body image. It was those God damned sconces. It's the 2000s, and we've got other sources of light besides candles. I had to leave because her apartment was eerily similar to the setting of a burlesque show.

Blue balls were a small price to pay to have every hair on my chest spared from being singed. I loathe the smell of hair burning; it's like roadkill...