Here in Charlotte County we are tough on crime, serious tough. Here in Charlotte County it’s ten strikes and you’re out . . . kinda . . . sorta . . . maybe. . . well, not really . . .
Now that we are dog deep into the dog days of summer, seems our local courts, in their attempts to do less and less are inadvertently providing more and more amusement for we, the sun-scorched, free ranging homo-sapiens of Charlotte County. Send in the drunken clown, one William F. Doyle III.
A year ago, 48-year old William the Third smashed his Jeep Cherokee into some old rudder sitting quietly on his Harley at a red light. Wham! The 66-year-old gent was blasted a hundred feet or so into outer space and straight off this mortal coil. Not only did the biker hardly know what had hit him, but Bill 3 hardly knew what he had hit either. Seems boozed up Bill was blotto when the crash occurred, and dang it, he was also killing without a license. In fact, Bill had lost his driver’s license years before for similar light-hearted stuff; a DUI here, a wreckless driving there, drunk in public everywhere . . . ho-hum. zzzzzzzz.
But then hey! what’s a drinkin’ man to do? Walk to the bars? Right! Indeed, Bill had been stopped by cops so many times and released that, like a welfare mother trying to count her children, there does not seem to be any accurate record of the number. Even after killing the above motorcyclist, Bill was not arrested. Nope, not this sot. Instead, a sample of his blood was sent off at surface rates to some remote mountain top in Tibet for lab work and our local high-tech detectives began a grueling, exhaustive nine-month investigation to determine if Bill had been drinking at the time of the crash.
In the meantime, Doyle was out and at it again, drinking, “driving like a crazy man,” living a charmed life, t’would seem. Though this booze bag is seemingly incapable of drawing a sober breath, not once did cops frog march Bill to the drunk tank. One month after the Harley fatality, Bill smashed his vehicle into a car driven by an 85-year-old man. The old coot survived, I guess (at that age it's pretty hard to tell). Poor Bill, however, was forced to pay a few fines on this one; but with a tip of the hat and a promise to do some community service, Doyle was out that morning just in time for the bars to open up.
I noticed the other day that Doyle and a lady love were in the news again when they were nabbed at a local Wal-mart for boosting some printer cartridges and a TV flat screen. Although both were already under trespass orders because of previous thefts at the store, as of this blogging the couple are out stealing and boozing it up right now.
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