I bought a tiny sample Yankee Candle recently, it was vanilla frosting flavour. It filled my house with the smell of cake. I like cake.
Because it was a sample it didn’t last long, so I went back to the shop. Alas, they had sold out and couldn’t guarantee getting any more in. This is where a strange obsessive behaviour started. Like an addict I told no one of my addiction. I thought about the vanilla frosting smell regularly and thought that maybe I’d never get to smell it again.
I took to the internet, specifically Ebay, where I tracked down and located the last two LARGE vanilla frosting Yankee Candles … probably in the WHOLE world. A done deal I bought one of them, then I sat back and congratulated myself, I would soon be able to fill my house with the cakey smell again.
Then I got an email from the seller, The Candle Man … “When would I like to collect my candle?” In blind panic I looked back at my purchase. Oh My God. I had bought a ‘Collection Only’ item from Deepest Darkest Lancashire. A round trip, door to door, of 121 miles. I begged him, actually begged him to post it to me, I would pay him hard cash. Nope, not interested “it’s glass”, he said, “I’m not posting it”.
So that is when we, the seller and I, concocted a plan. He, once a week , worked away from home and his train went through my local station. The following week I found myself waiting on a train platform for a train, only I wasn’t going to get on the train, I was going to meet a strange man and get my candle. The train came and went, no man. No candle.
Dejected I went home, I had been stood up by The Candle Man. A later missive explained that his train had been delayed and had come in two minutes after I left, he was sorry.
Once again we conversed about where we would meet the following week, this was now through texts. Had my Husband been of the suspicious persuasion and had looked at my recent texts he would have come across this conversation.
The following week arrived and I was sat on the platform, looking like a French onion seller, when I noticed one of our best friends stood on the opposite platform concentrating on his phone. This is where I did that thing where you feel guilty when you actually shouldn’t. The Husband didn’t know about my addiction, nor did he know I was waiting on a platform for The Candle Man. In fact when he reads this it will be the first he hears of it.
Our friend was on the opposite platform, therefore any discussion would have had to be shouted across two sets of railway tracks and would have gone like this;
Him : HI, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?
Me : NOWHERE, I’M WAITING FOR A STRANGER, THE CANDLE MAN, HE’S GIVING ME A CANDLE. IT SMELLS OF VANILLA FROSTING.
Him : confused face WHAT?
Me : I’M WAITING FOR A STRANGER WITH A CANDLE. IT SMELLS OF VANILLA FROSTING.
Him : confused face I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME, WHY WOULD YOU BE DOING THAT?
Me : IT’S A LONG STORY. PLEASE DON’T TELL MY HUSBAND THAT I’M HAVING AN AFFAIR.
Him : confused face
Me : HONESTLY, DON’T WORRY, I’LL EXPLAIN ANOTHER TIME
So I did what any other self-respecting candle addict would do. I stood behind another lady, put my hood up and stared at my phone in the hope he wouldn’t notice me.
The train arrived, a man in a red t-shirt and jeans got off the train, handed me a bag and got back on the train.
With hood up, I returned to the car park with my suspicious package. I got in the car and ripped open the bag, I took the lid off the candle and sniffed, a deep sniff, hoping for the cake smell to dissolve my feelings of faux adultery.
My house smells of cake once more, but it also smells of my foolishness. The moral of this story – ALWAYS check if it is ‘collection only’ when buying something on ebay.