I would like to start by saying my neighbors are not horrible people. They don’t steal, they don’t drink alcohol, they don’t do drugs. Their Momma, god rest her soul, was a good christian woman by all community standards. Their daddy, well he probably isn’t as good a christian as his Momma would have wanted from him. To protect the family, and myself I have gave them a fictitious name. Their real name is so famous in these parts that I give directions to my home by telling people I live close to them.
Momma kept a small bottle of holy water in her dresser drawer. Once a week, on race day, she would the bottle out to bless her boys, and their race car. Oh yes, the world of the *Doyle boys is centered around racing cars. Do I live near a famous NASCAR family? No, of course not, this is Eastern Kentucky. My neighbors are gods of the dirt tracks.
The Dolye boys and their garage is legendary. Not because they are amazing racers, they lose more than they win, and not because they are great mechanics I rarely see them fix a car that doesn’t belong to them. The Doyle boys are legendary for their off track antics. Like the time they shut down the McDonald's. It was Sunday morning, the day after race day and the Boys decided to treat themselves to some dollar menu fare when in walked a rival race team. This team was far inferior in the eyes of the Doyle boys, despite having a better record and having won the night before. Words were exchanged, followed by fists. Within minutes the dining area of McDonald's was covered with blood and broken furniture. Off to jail they went, still maintaining that the other team had intentionally wrecked them.
*Names have been changed to ensure White Trash anonymity. Follow my blog with Bloglovin