Our embarrassing moment with the Resident Assistant in college

Published July 28, 2012 by pinkgirrl

The campus rules were totally against lighting candles in dorms when I was back in college. But who cares, rules are made to be broken, right?

So one evening I was was in my room with Angela, the roommate, studying for some laboratory we had that week. We had like half a dozen candles burning, when we hear a knock on the door. “Come in, it’s open!” Angela shouts. I quickly point at the candles and start making faces: “What if it’s the RA?” “No, wait, who is there?” continues she. To our dismay, we hear the RA’s name.

Oh sh*t! Angela mumbles something like “Oh… hold on, wait a minute” then quickly tries to put the candles off. One of them tips over and spills all-over the place, covering her in wax from head to foot. She stumbles to the door, opens it halfway, mumbles some excuse about not being dressed (the RA was a guy) and talks to him for a bit. It turned out that the guy was new and just wanted to introduce himself and meet the tenants.

As he walks away, Angela starts cleaning herself up, with a sigh of relief. I leave the door open and hear the RA going down the stairs (we were living on the 5th floor, which was the top one). “Let’s tell the girls”, I say, once Angela gets done and changes her stained clothes. “Oh God, yes!”, agrees Angela, still livid after the encounter. “The girls” were two colleagues and good friends of ours who were living next door.

I walk in the room, Angela follows, leaving the door wide open. “Oh my God, you’re not going to believe what happened”, I go. “We had like seven candles burning in our room, and that fu**ing guy almost walked in on us. Angie spilled a candle and almost burned herself. What a jerk, what the fu** is he doing here anyway?” The girls were shaking their heads with a scared look on their faces and gesturing me to shut up. When I turn around, the RA was standing in the doorway, with a wide smile on his face. “Hello ladies!”, he says, then walks away. I thought I was going to pass out as I heard him going down the stairs.

Later on, we made friends with the RA. His name was Jack, or John, or something, he was in his late forties and an overall nice guy. We told him that we loved candles and that they helped us relax and study better. He made us promise that we will be very careful with them and said this would be our “dirty little secret”. We apologized for the “incident” and thanked him for not turning us in. He said it was one of the funniest moments in his life, and the reason why he walked away was that he couldn’t stop laughing at the whole situation.

A date that literally went on fire

Published July 27, 2012 by pinkgirrl

The story I’m going to tell you is happening back in 2009 when I was dating Matt. I prepared a romantic evening, with rose petals on the bed, champagne and scented candles for intimacy.

Matt was a bit of a country boy, with not a lot much of a touch with city life. The first thing he said when he entered my apartment and saw the burning candles was “Oh my god, who died??” Needless to say, he couldn’t understand why I was laughing so hard, and it took me more than five minutes to actually stop laughing and tell her that no, nobody died, and that we were in for a relaxing evening.

Little did I know that the walking disaster aka Matt was about to set my place on fire.

After watching a movie, we went to the balcony for a cigarette. Both of us were smokers, but my (and the landlord’s) rule was no smoking inside. Se took cigs from my purse and left it on the table in the living room, where the candles were still burning. We spent a bit over an hour outside – it was a hot summer night, we were chatting, laughing and got a bit boozed up with that bottle of champagne. When I went inside… hell was about to unleash. The plastic on the side of the purse had melted, so the purse had shifted its center of gravity and fell on the floor, taking one candle along with it. The floor was covered by a woolen rug that was slowly catching fire.

Luckily I got there in time. The smoke was almost unbearable, I started choking the moment I got in. I quickly saw where it was coming from, took the purse by the hangers that weren’t burning and threw it out the window, while yelling at Matt to get him to help me. I ran to the kitchen, got a bucket of water and spilled it on my expensive rug, while still yapping at him for ruining my “expensive” purse that hadn’t cost more than $25 at a flea market.

The result? The damaged wooden floor cost me a little over $1,000 to replace, and the rug, which a gift from my late grandmother, was totally wrecked. I was fuming – literally, hehe – but I took the blow. He offered to pay me for the damage, but I refused politely.

Later on (I believe it was much after we broke up, but that’s irrelevant) I found these candles that use an electrical light bulb to heat the wax, so there’s no fire and no risk of burning down the house. I can’t seem to remember what they were called. They are a bit pricier than regular candles, but the safety they offer is well worth it. I’ll follow up about them in another article if I remember what the brand name was.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.