Poison ivy

MISSING: Tall, outgoing and happy 27 year-old man answering to the name of ‘Dom’ and wearing a smile.

I have a very sad announcement to make – I have lost my flatmate. He has been kidnapped by an evil dwarf lady who eats nothing but soya beans and self-confidence – his self-confidence, that is.

Yes, my lovely flatmate has found himself a girlfriend and since her appearance on the scene a few months ago, he has turned into a shadow of his former self. Gone is the happy-go-lucky boy who’d greet me with a cheeky grin and a bear hug every day, and in his place there is a rather confusing chap who flips between all-consuming black moods brought about by another battle with his lady-nemesis, and very occasional highs, which I suspect are the result of marathon sessions in the sack.

Actually, I think this is where her power over him must stem from. He has conceded himself that she makes him miserable, that she’s hard work, and that (and I quote) “it’s not even like she’s that stunning and it makes it all worth it”, yet somehow she still occupies a place in his life…and his bed. I would have given him more credit than being a lad that falls for big boobs and a domineering personality but somehow her sex kitten act has him hooked. She stalks around the place with bright red lipstick, towering heels, and the lowest cut tops you can imagine, and, like an obedient little puppy, he follows with his tongue hanging out. What is wrong with the boy?

And for all of you reading this and attributing my reaction to jealousy, can I just point out that it’s not just me that feels like this. Oh no. Every single one of his best friends has taken me aside to complain about the girl and Dom’s addiction to her. According to them, she’s known in their crowd for being a complete nightmare, apparently she parades around the clubs they go to like she owns the place, and expects every man to fall at her tiny little feet. They can’t stand how she treats Dom, demanding his undivided attention and making a scene every time he fails to live up to her lofty expectations, yet none of them will say anything to him. Instead they bend my ear about it and make me even more exasperated.

On the odd occasion I do get the chance to talk to Dom about it, he just looks forlorn – either defending her with a heartfelt “but she’s so sweet when we’re alone together and no one else sees that” or dropping his head in his hands and vowing to end it. Of course, whenever he attempts that, she breaks out the big guns (so to speak). And the next morning, an array of sex foods from strawberries to crème caramel (yuk) have magically appeared in my fridge, and they hole themselves up in his room for the day. When they finally emerge, she has the smug look of triumph on her face, while poor Dom looks slightly delirious.

To make matters worse, not only have I lost my fun flatmate, I seem to have gained the girlfriend as an honorary one. And let me tell you, she ain’t a bundle of laughs to live with. When she’s not picking a fight with Dom, or trying to look all seductive on the couch, she’s messing around in my kitchen cooking up strange vegetarian dishes that stink the house out (it seems she only breaks her super-healthy diet during their foodie sex sessions). My cupboard and fridge are filling up with gross-looking health foods, various odd-looking meat substitutes, and jar after jar of vitamin and mineral supplements, and my bathroom is overflowing with gloopy blue bath products from Lush. Incidentally, what the hell kind of ‘sex kitten’ shops at Lush and Holland & Barrett – surely it should be champagne, caviar, and Chanel all the way?

Perhaps I should hatch a plan with the boys to stage an intervention. We could lock Dom in his room for a week for a ‘she-devil detox’, ring round some of the old notches on his bedpost to remind him what fun it was to play the field, and force feed him manly food like steak, pizza, and chips to rid the poor boy of the taste of sushi and soya that’s threatening to damage his tastebuds permanently.

Of course what’s more likely to happen is that I’ll continue to try to be supportive as he tears himself apart every other day. I’ll watch quietly as she stomps all over his heart and I’ll be there to pick up the pieces when it all falls apart. There’s really not much else I can do…short of an extermination.