The Shrine
I once knew a bloke called JC who worked at the same place I did. We went out for Friday beers a few times, had a laugh and became mates. All quite normal.

Then it started. So slowly I didn’t notice until it was too late.

I used to stay over at his place on a Friday quite regularly after work, and got to know him and his fiancée quite well. I thought it was a bit odd that if I was still in work clothes when I went round he used to try and insist that I borrowed some clothes of his, but let it slide.

One day apparently out of the blue his fiancée dumped him, refusing to say why. I felt quite sorry for him and so started spending more time with him, then when he had to give up the flat they’d shared I invited him to move into the spare room at our place.

One or two of his friends whom I’d got to know made a few comments about how cool it was that JC & I would have a new gay pad, but I naturally assumed this was their sense of humour so again thought no more of it.

I started to notice a few things of mine going missing, but as it was a shared house populated my a bunch of slightly dodgy types, with even dodgier mates, I chalked this up to experience and made sure my door was kept locked.

One day I passed JC’s open door on the way to the shower and saw what looked like one of my house plants in his room. Cheeky bastard, I thought, I’ll make sure I ask him for that back.

Then one day I met a young lady (who turned out to be the future Mrs Soapy Norris as it happened) and things rapidly escalated.

He shaved his head bald. Just like mine. Grew a goatee. Just like mine. Dropped his midlands accent and adopted a West London accent. Just like mine.

If I arranged to go out with this girl, or any of my friends without him, he would throw a tantrum like a four year old, saying I wasn’t paying him any attention. I was best man at my mate’s wedding and had to meet up to discuss details – JC went mad and demanded to know why I couldn’t do this by videoconferencing.

It was at that point that things clicked into place and I realised how blind I’d been. Oh dear, I thought.

So I confronted JC at the next opportunity and said what the hell is all this about? He said well, a psychologist would probably say that since I split up with my fiancée I’ve started fixating on somebody else, and that person is you…. Oh dear oh dear, I thought.

I moved out very shortly thereafter. Before I went I made sure JC wasn’t in then entered his room to get my plant back.

Let’s just say I wish I hadn’t.
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(Ali Bongo 9000 Ali Bongo 9000, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 16:56, Reply)