Meet Moira - Just Don't Look Her In The Eye

Well, you've met Howard, my slovenly next door neighbor.  I figured it was time, at last, to introduce you to his better, ahem, half wife, Moira.  Truth be told, Howard is the better half of this duo.  They moved in about six years ago, replacing another gem of a neighbor I'll get to at some point.  Do keep on the edge of your seat.  That will be worth the wait.

Moira, like so many others, is a transplant to South Florida from Queens, NY.  And, like so many others, she's brought every rude, obnoxious and aggressive manner with her.  These people have given me serious New Yorkitis but I'm starting to think the problem isn't there, it's here.  In fact, when I'm in New York, the people there are much more pleasant than here.  Could it be they cast aside their undesirables to make the big apple that much sweeter?

Whatever the reason, we're over-run down here, and Moira is a perfect example.  She talks tawks with a strong accent, usually in her outside voice.  I think it's her only voice.  Weekends are especially sweet because we get to hear all the yelling that goes on next door.

"HOWAAD!" and "SAMMY!" often punctuate the days.  Now she has a newborn.  Baby Eddie.  It won't be long before she's yelling at him.  Until then, I expect Sammy to take the full brunt since she didn't want a brother, and until now, she's run the household.  Lest you think the yelling is confined to their own home, the following has happened a number of times:

Moira comes over to borrow something, or ask a favor.  It should only take a minute, but an hour later she's still here, spreading gossip, or complaining about Howard's family.  Sammy usually accompanies her because she likes our cats.  Inevitably though, Sammy is ready to leave before Moira and becomes whiny.  She climbs on her mother.  Climbs on our furniture.  Tortures the cat.  We wait for the mother to discipline the child.  Nothing happens.  Sammy's whining grows louder.  Moira ignores.  Finally, Sammy shouts that she wants to leave.  Moira finally responds, "WE DON'T YELL IN OTHER PEOPLE'S HOUSES!"  Mrs. Sarcasm and I roll our eyes.

Moira has never made a friend she liked, and she's not shy about telling us everyone's faults.  Still, the couple host big parties several times a year.  Oddly, they don't clean the house, but people keep coming back.  Afterward, because we live next door, she tells us how so and so is a drunk, or has a gambling problem, or somebody's wife is going to leave them.  And she doesn't restrict the gossip, or hatred, to the adults.  Most of Sammy's friends are spoiled brats.  Not at all like Sammy.  I have noted that the only kids who get along with others are the ones who have siblings.  So maybe there's hope for Sammy now that Eddie's come along.

One little girl about Sammy's age lives just down the street.  We always see her riding her scooter while her shirtless father walks alongside.  I once asked Sammy why she doesn't ever play with that little girl.

"Because she's a little monstah," answered Moira.

I see.  Couldn't have anything to do with her mother passing away a few years back.

Then there is Linus and Patty, who live two doors down from Moira.  They moved in about a year ago and Sammy became fast friends with their kids, but Moira quickly soured on the parents, who seem as nice as can be and would probably make good friends if we didn't have to maneuver past Moira to see them.  Now, Sammy no longer plays with them, because they, too, are horrible monstahs.  And, for some insane reason, Howard is under the impression Linus "wants" Moira, so she's labled him a pervert.

Seriously, Linus has seen Mrs. Sarcasm.  Not to mention a few other ladies of the block.  Did I mention that when Moira was seven months pregnant she looked no different than when she wasn't pregnant?  That's not a compliment.

Moira worked for Howard's parents until a few years ago when they swindled the old folks out of the business.  She also works part time in the Homeowner's Association office.  What gossip Howard doesn't supply, Moira does.  Everyone's delinquent.  Everyone's irrational.  And everyone blames Moira for their problems.

Moira working in the office has left me in a quandary.  I've described the squalor in which they live  in great detail here and here.  I could never formally complain about it though, because she's the one who takes the complaints.  Now that she's on maternity leave (for as short as possible, according to Howard) I should take advantage of her absence in the office.  But that, I fear, would be a suicide mission.  Moira knows everything about everyone.  And I do not want to be on her enemies list.