Your new flat share, Glenys, has become a nightmare, although when she came to view the accommodation she seemed to be a perfect fit for the minimalist dynamic of a utilitarian warehouse conversion, so you had no hesitation in offering the room to her.
However alarm bells began to ring within three hours of her having moved in when you detected a pungent and musty smell coming from her room. After tapping politely on the door, but to no avail, you coughed loudly and turned the handle. Your heart sank immediately as you found her dancing stark-naked in front of a little mini-temple where joss sticks were scenting the air with pungent patchouli oil incense.
Your fear intensified as she seemed quite at ease with her nudity. ‘Hi Alan, no, please don’t apologise, I’m cleansing the room of negative thoughts and feelings. Probably just leftover memories of the last tenant’s aura. Why not get naked and join me,’ she suggested.
Of course you refused but since then things have become even worse. She continually plays Tibetan Nose Flute music at all hours and has commandeered the second shelf in the fridge, insisting that none of you contaminate her ‘special food’ with your Tesco chill-cook stuff and non-vegan cheese.
She’s out for the day at some kind of meditation course but after an emergency house meeting you have been elected to serve notice when she comes back. It’s going to be awkward but as Tom said: ‘Letting the room to your Mum after her complicated divorce was never really going to work, Alan.’