The Contraband Candle

I went to my cousins' wedding yesterday evening.

Got pretty drunk.

We came home and the wife lit a few candles, because they smell nice. We left one of them burning on the front (enclosed) porch over night. It was a safe, ten hour candle; the kind that comes in a jar.

We went to sleep a few hours later.

At 4:30am the phone rings. I fumble around, trying to wake from a deep, drunken sleep. It's the police, they tell me there are some officers at the front door. So I stumble to the front door and, sure enough, there are three officers standing at the bottom of the porch steps. Two cruisers are parked on the road in front of my house.

"Hi," I say. "How can I help you?"

"We got a call from one of your neighbors," one of the officers says. "They saw you had a candle burning on the porch and were concerned that you hadn't blown it out."

I stared at them, dumbfounded for a bit before saying; "Do you want me to blow it out?" No answer. I continue; "It's safe. That kind of candle can last for hours."

"Okay," the one that talked said. "We just came to check on it, to make sure everything was okay. One of your neighbors was concerned."

"Alright," I said. "I'll blow it out then."

So they thanked me and turned around to return to their vehicles, and I blew out the candle.

First I'm pissed off and wondering which one of my idiot fucking neighbors called in with concern about a candle burning, and then I'm wondering how boring the graveyard shift must be for these guys if they come in for back-up on a candle burning in a jar.

Stupid fucking Youngstown suburb.