Yankee Candles: Serious Business

Whenever I get my “10.00 off a purchase of 25.00 or more” Yankee Candle Coupon, I get a little giggly.  I know it’s not very HIP to be into the YC, but man, their Christmas candles are unrivaled and deliciously scented.  I’m also big into the Autumn candles and the Sage and Citrus.  I always feel like I’m treating myself to a luxury when I buy one though, because a teeny, baby food sized jar of candle is something like….609.00 (give or take).  Yes, they last a long time but come on folks.  It’s wax with a string in it.

So imagine my joy while walking around vibrant down town Arlington Heights – Where Everything Is Closed on Sunday!, when I encountered a Yankee Candle store, waiting anxiously for my perusalment. <– new word, by me.

The store wasn’t crowded, but the character I found inside could fill a thousand stadiums.  For on that day I found: The Original Yankee Candle Groupie.  Readers, I have been a fool.  A sexist, narrow minded fool.  I’ll admit that in my mind, I was sure that the world’s number one fan of fragrances like “Midsummer’s Night” and “Home Sweet Home” would be, well, a  woman.  But not this time.  For the man who stood before me was a stocky fellow, dressed casually in cut off black sweatpants and a Chicago Blackhawks Hockey fleece pullover.  He wore Transitions lenses that were stuck on ‘medium shade’, giving him a definite late seventies vibe.

And this guy had set up camp, exploring every inch of this, his church, his world, his…lover?

During the time I was in the store he covered many topics –

While holding two jarred candles, one in each hand, raising and lowering them as if judging the guilt or innocence of the world he talked about the hourly burntime of the 14.7 ounce jar candle vs. the two wick beanswax tumbler candle which is relatively new to Yankee Candle (the beanswax is almost DOUBLE THE BURNTIME YOU GUYS!) 

 

He wondered aloud about one of his favorite old SweetPea scents and whether or not that would be returning to the shelves, and how it compared to the 2009 SweetPea, the color of which is different and really NOT what he’d invision for the scent.   And how do they choose the colors anyway?  That’s something you don’t think about, he told….no one (and everyone). 

 

Also, he wanted to know (if you have a minute), what happened to the five candle sampler box that they used to have? Now you can get three or twelve, and he thought there should be a third choice.  The five candle box was a nice size.  That was his “go to”.  It wasn’t too expensive, but it wasn’t cheap.  It made a great hostess gift.

 

Let’s stop here once again so we can picture this guy who most closely resembled the stereotypical Southside Irish Beverly Neighborhood Chicagoan, pasty white with a flat butt, stringy thin hair slicked back with either grease or dapper dan or sweat.  He had old, coffee or cigarette stained teeth that looked like rows of niblet corn, and while I try not to be a socioeconomic classist, I have to say that I pictured him offering his hostess a six pack of Busch Light more than a five pack of Sweet Pea votives.

 

“Well,” one of the workers said, “I’m not the manager, that’s up to the manager.  I don’t know what she’s going to do.”

 

“Typical Yankee Candle, eh?” He said laughing knowingly.

 

After I’d made my selections and headed up to the counter (where this man had set up a small camp, adding candle after candle to a tiny mountain of perfumed pastels) I realized I’d forgotten my coupon!  WHAT THE.

 

I uttered a “darn, I forgot my coupon” and the man whipped his head around.

 

“The spring incentive?  Or the quarterly flyer?”

 

By now the woman behind the counter was pinching the bridge of her nose, wondering if unemployment was all that bad.  As it happened they had an extra coupon behind the counter for me (spring incentive) and I thanked them profusely while the man added a handful of potpourri tarts to his order.

 

“Have a good day now,” the saleslady said, a hint of sadness in her voice that I was leaving her alone with a rabid candlephile.

 

“You’ll love that new Island Spa you got there,” the man said.

 

And with his word of encouragement, I knew I would.