I hate candle parties like I hate Nazis. If I ever had a candle party the only people I’d invite would be those I hated enough to desire their demise or at least quasi-financial ruin.

Here is what happens with a candle party; The hostess (the betrayer) gets the candle catalogue and talks with a Candle Nazi about all the “fabulous” free gifts and discounts she can receive as a candle compatriot. Then the candle Nazi gives her a stack of notices to recruit her friends as candle propaganda spreaders. Then after the notices have been spread the hostess calls and delivers a personalized lecture about the value of friendship and it’s subsequent proof in relation to the attendance of said candle rally.

Once the rally commences by the aid of repetition it is driven home the dire need of your hostess to replenish her dwindling candle supplies and the burden of the candle effort rests on your shoulders. You can change the flow of time (and the discount percentage of your hostess) by purchasing a ceramic-bunny-spring-flower-basket-tea-light-votive-holder-diffuser-snuffer for $49.95.

Of course there are a few rebels waiting in their annexes to strike when the party games with their “free gifts”begin. It is at this time revenge is at it’s best to win all the party games and take home your free candle contraband feigning shock and delight at your good fortune. At the end of the night it is with a sigh and the promise of sustenance you fill out your comment card (or if your savvy to the ways of the Nazi , discreetly stuff it in the cushion of the couch you’ve chosen to make your final stand) and head towards the abysmally disappointing olive and cheese tray which is meant to feed the 30 people there with a see through slice of cheese an olive and a cracker. This is your dinner. You will enjoy it. The Candle Nazi has said it shall be so.

You’ll complete your evenings with effusive “I really enjoyed this”s or “I’ll book my ‘party’ soon let me check my schedule”s. Secretly fearing words otherwise would bring reprisal of unheard of proportions. As you walk down the stone steps and into the crisp clean air (which to your appreciative lungs smells nothing like “Fresh Air” the Candle Nazi promotes) there is a small part of you settling into peaceful release of another rallying attempt successfully thwarted. Until you realize...your “friend” has BECOME the Candle Nazi.