Chuck Winfield

Charles Winston Winfield II

Yeah, my name might sound like I am some kind of special guy, but I am really not. I live in Kent, Tacoma in a one bedroom apartment, on the 5th floor. The elevator doesn’t work half the time, so the only exercise I get is traipsing up and down the stairs.

The love of my life Sue, died of an inoperable tumor years ago. They say that it was preventable, but who has the money for that sort of thing. Now, I occasionally bring home a lady, but who’s bragging. I have a son named Charlie, but we barely talk. I think it has something do to with my love for the liquor. Hic.. He called me the night he got engaged to some camel jockey, but I was down at the local tavern tipping a few back. When I called him back a week later, he said she was dead. I asked him if he had any money, and he hung up.

I’ve been working at the same place for about thirty years making stuff that kill people in some far flung places of the world, like Spokane or Somaliland. I put the little canister in and turn it 35 degrees and pass it along to the next guy. No big deal. Hey bartender, bring me another!

I got a call recently from my kid, and he told me that he was engaged again. I saw his new chick, and wow, I wouldn’t mind taking the skin boat to tuna town on that one. Maybe Charlie will let me take her for a test run.


So, I was in Vegas recently, having a good time at this buffet, trying to get this hot waitress to pay some attention to me, for a quick lay, when all of a sudden this drunken sot sits across from me and starts babbling about how I should treat the staff better. Yadda, Yadda, Yadda. I thought about laying him flat out, but he looked kind of crazy, and besides I wanted to look good for my date tonight. Whatever, I am going to blow this joint and look for a better class of people. By the way, that drunk looked like my kid, but there is no way that poindexter would be in a place like this, nor would that teetotaler have a drop of drink.

After a night with Dixie, I called my kid and asked if I could bring a date to his wedding next week. He said okay, and said that she would have to sit separately – probably sandwiched between camel jockeys and slanty eyed tuskers. That’s okay though, because I am going to try and ditch that stuffy table with that cold bitch as soon as I can.

Well, I never made to my son’s wedding, as a little side trip to Las Vegas prevented me from going. I am still not sure if I would have gone anyway, after what happened between me and Dixie. I can’t believe that she used me like that.

I was so happy to hear when Charlie got out of prison. I know he was guilty, after all I was there, but I know the poor kid wouldn’t last too long there. My connections only go so far.

Well, I am back on the market now. I figure if Charlie could find a fine woman like that on the matrix, so can I. So what if my picture was taken around the crash of 29, after Cindy died?

Chuck Winfield

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