LINDSAY WINCHERAUK

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PUBLIC STATEMENT: FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
A Starbucks in Vancouver Fired a 65-Year-Old Worker for Keeping Everyone Safe.

On October 30, 2025, the Starbucks at Robson & Richards fired me — a 65-year-old, near-minimum-wage worker — for protecting customers and coworkers from a repeat offender who had a court order forbidding him from entering the café.

The incident occurred on October 10, 2025. When the man entered the store, I did what any responsible adult would do: I kept everyone safe by keeping his focus on me. No one was harmed. No violence occurred. Afterward, a customer thanked me for keeping her safe.

One month before the incident, the same man visited the café on two consecutive days. On the second occasion, a worker hit him repeatedly with a box and grabbed him, causing the man to fall. There were no repercussions for this incident. The worker was not terminated, nor do I believe he should have been — Starbucks takes no responsibility for the dangerous situations they place workers in. The contrast is staggering when no one was hurt, and I kept everyone safe; I was the one who got fired.

Despite this, Starbucks — led by its HR department and a district manager who may (or should) be under review by HR — claimed that I acted “aggressively” and violated a vague “de-escalation” policy. This policy is designed to force people in crisis (addiction, mental health, homelessness) out of cafés unless they make a purchase, placing young workers in dangerous situations they are not trained to handle.

A police review of the video footage clearly shows that I did not behave aggressively. It fully contradicts HR’s version of events.
I requested an extension to obtain legal representation before signing my severance release, to view the video that Starbucks claims justifies my firing, and to confirm whether the district manager is under HR review. Starbucks refused every request.
This termination has caused irreparable harm. At 65, this has effectively ended my work life, damaged my reputation, and placed my family and me in growing financial peril. Starbucks — a $91 billion corporation — acted with impunity. I am a 65-year-old man living on minimum wage. Now I fear becoming another homelessness statistic.

This story deserves international attention.

I am seeking:

• Legal representation on a contingency basis
• An extension so I am not bullied into signing away my rights
• An independent review of the district manager and Starbucks’ HR practices
• A copy of the video so it can be entered into the public record

I may never regain my reputation or find stable work again — but I can shine a light on what happened so massive corporations can no longer fabricate narratives, silence workers, and destroy the lives of people who are simply trying to survive.

I ask Starbucks one question: What did you gain by firing an older employee who was loved by coworkers and customers alike, for an incident where nobody was hurt?

I am willing to speak on the record.

We must be the voice.

Contact:

Lindsay Wincherauk

[email protected]
778.329.3820
www.lindsaywincherauk.com

A local Starbucks fired a 65-year-old barista for keeping coworkers and customers safe from a repeat offender — while still claiming to offer the “best benefits” in retail.

They attacked who I am. That is not okay. There is no closure in that.

STARBUCKS: WHY I’M APPLYING FOR THE CEO JOB (AND WHY YOU SHOULD BE TERRIFIED I’M QUALIFIED)

By Lindsay Wincherauk

Let me begin with a simple, staggering number:

$100 million.

That’s what Starbucks paid a CEO for four months of work.

Four months of announcing dress codes, scribbling on cups, and promising investors that if he could just get baristas to work faster, the stock would magically rise.

Four months of talking.

While the rest of us did the work.

So today, I’m doing what every worker across the world should do:

I’m applying to be the CEO of Starbucks.

And here’s why the corporation should be terrified:

I am actually qualified.

Not “qualified” in the Ivy League, shareholder-soothing, buzzword-filled sense.

I mean, actually qualified — in the way that matters to the people who keep the company alive.

I’ve worked the floor.

I’ve connected with thousands of customers.

I’ve cleaned the ovens, done the garbage, stocked the fridges, wiped the counters, and mopped the floors.

I know the burn of being understaffed.

I know the panic of “the rush.”

I know the real safety risks.

Not the imaginary ones the corporate script trains workers for — the real ones you face when the poverty crisis spills into the café, and nobody at the top wants to talk about it.

I know who needs to be gone because they’ve given up critical thought, empathy, compassion, and understanding—as they bow down to a fracturing corporate script.

I remember an episode of The Flintstones when I was a kid. Fred and Barney were in a band—the band was a hit—until the fans decided the band was square.

Starbucks is there—and corporate policy will not salvage the fall.

I know the truth that no CEO ever wants to face:

The café runs because of the workers.

The brand runs because of the illusion.

And workers aren’t fooled anymore.

Why I’m More Qualified Than the $100M CEO

Let’s compare résumés.

The CEO has:

Four months of corporate speeches
A record-setting paycheque
A talent for PowerPoints
No experience serving the public
No idea what actually happens inside a café
A detachment from reality so vast it should qualify as altitude sickness

I have:

Thousands of hours on the front lines
Direct experience handling crises that the company refuses to acknowledge
A gift for connection, no training module can replicate
Deep understanding of customer behaviour, human behaviour, and real-world danger
Testimonials from customers and workers who said I made the café feel human
Lived experience, emotional intelligence, and the wisdom of 65 years
The ability to articulate the truth that the company keeps burying

And most importantly:

I would never fire a barista for keeping people safe.

Which already makes me more qualified than the last regime.
What Workers Should Demand From a CEO

A CEO should understand:

Poverty is not an inconvenience.
Addiction is not a brand risk.
Mental health crises are not “customer dissatisfaction.”
De-escalation is not a sales strategy.
Workers are not interchangeable props for a marketing campaign.
“Connection” is not a slogan — it’s a responsibility.
And paying yourself $100 million while baristas struggle to afford groceries is not leadership.

It’s contempt.

It’s cruelty.

It’s a slap in the face to every worker who keeps the doors open.

And if a CEO doesn’t understand that?

They’re not a CEO.

They’re a mascot for capitalism.

Why Workers Should Be Furious — Not Jealous

Workers don’t resent success.

They resent insult.

And paying a CEO $100 million to “fix the culture” while underpaying and overburdening the workers who are the culture is the definition of an insult.

It’s the corporate equivalent of saying:

“You do the work.

I’ll take the money.”

Every barista on the planet should despise this.

Not out of envy — out of clarity.

Why I’m Applying for the Job

Because I already know the truth, Starbucks is terrified of:

I understand the business better than the people currently paid to run it.

Not because I’m brilliant — but because I’ve lived the realities they refuse to face.
I’ve seen the poverty crisis collide with the service industry.

I’ve seen young workers collapse under corporate expectations.

I’ve seen older workers humiliated until they break.

I’ve seen managers enforce policies they know are wrong.

I’ve seen HR protect the brand instead of the people.

I’ve seen the façade.

I’ve seen the rot.

I’ve seen how compassion gets punished.

I’ve seen how connection gets weaponized.

I’ve seen how the company chooses liability over humanity every single time.

I can type 70 words per minute and have performed stand-up.

And apparently, that makes me overqualified.

So yes.

I’m applying for the CEO job.

Because someone has to tell the truth.

Someone has to name what this company has become.

Someone has to speak for the workers who are too afraid, too exhausted, too underpaid, or too replaceable to fight back.

If Starbucks wants a CEO who understands reality, I’m right here.

If they want someone who will tell investors the truth rather than feed them corporate folklore, I’m ready.

If they want someone who can actually lead a team, not intimidate one, I’ll start tomorrow.

And if they don’t want that?

Well… that’s why they should be terrified.

Because the truth has momentum now.

And nothing scares a corporation more than a worker who refuses to disappear.

Please Share
.
The movement grows one voice at a time.

CONTACT

Lindsay Wincherauk

Writer • Advocate • Former Barista • Former OPED Writer (for a major commuter paper)
Vancouver, BC

[email protected]

778.329.3820

https://www.facebook.com/lindsay.wincherauk

https://www.instagram.com/lindsay_wincherauk/ 37,952 followers | 11+ viral posts | Top post: 17.5M views

Manuscript & Media Requests Available Upon Request.

Tomorrow: STARBUCKS: WHY I’M APPLYING FOR THE CEO JOB (AND WHY YOU SHOULD BE TERRIFIED I’M QUALIFIED)

Please Share. Help my Instagram hit 40K… 50K followers.

The story has reached Canada, the USA, Australia, Portugal, the United Kingdom, and New Zealand.

Together, we can force a reckoning.

Most customers were introverts disappearing into their own private storms.

The 65-year-old’s superpower is observing the human condition and then connecting the dots.

“Is that the Gastown Steam Clock? What a view.”

“Yes, it comes with razor blades, one pill (in case of emergency), and reading glasses."

The corporation’s $100 million CEO opens the door of his mansion—his maid greets him.

As we age, we see more of us on the street—as if the mirror has become alive.

A local Starbucks fired a 65-year-old barista for keeping coworkers and customers safe from a repeat offender — while still claiming to offer the “best benefits” in retail.

They attacked who I am. That is not okay. There is no closure in that.

STARBUCKS: A 65-Year-Old Barista Was Fired for Keeping People Safe — Here’s What Starbucks Doesn’t Want You to See.

By Lindsay Wincherauk

STARBUCKS: A 65-Year-Old Barista Was Fired for Keeping People Safe — Here’s What Starbucks Doesn’t Want You to See. (I'm confident you will laugh).

Context

For sixteen months, the 65-year-old barista lived the corporate illusion of “connection”—a fantasy that leadership with fat wallets kept selling long after the world moved on. They preached the gospel of the “Third Place,” as if handwritten notes on cups, fewer mobile drinks, and automated inventory could magically rebuild a community that no longer existed.

But inside the café, the truth was obvious:

Most customers were introverts disappearing into their own private storms. The young baristas were overwhelmed, exhausted, and untrained for the crises they were asked to manage. And the only person who truly understood connection—the one with sixty-five years of lived experience, grief, humour, survival, and human observation—was eventually fired for keeping people safe.

Leadership kept selling myths.

Claiming these people would fuel profits:

The lady who adds a half litre of cream to her six refills, so that her $3.00 coffee with six refills costs the corporation $33 in cream. The lady is miserable, unapproachable.

The man who wears open-toe shoes year-round. He keeps to himself. Sneaks smokes on the patio and has five refills, each time asking the young baristas to steam an inch of cream for his drinks.

The three guys working on their computers, never conversing with each other.

And the travellers who sit together.

The 65-year-old barista understands these people have every right to be in the café, but in reality, no one is coming in to see a group of introverts who are lost deep in their own lives.

The 65-year-old barista understands connection. His experience and lived experience (his district manager will eventually deem as irrelevant) allow him to find something to connect with every guest who walks into the store. He takes the stage for a moment, bringing light to each customer—intuitively understanding what connection is: Sure, the barista may be the catalyst, the conduit, but what connection really is if you can get Customer A to talk with Customer B, then the café can recapture connectivity.

The 65-year-old barista understands nobody is coming into a café to sit with other introverts when they can sit at home alone.

And the “leadership” keeps screaming they will speed up order times: by making the baristas write personal notes on the cups of people they don’t know—and never will.

They keep saying everything they do is to give the young baristas more time to connect with people, sometimes twenty, thirty, and forty years older, whose life stresses are different—those who have faced death, sickness, trials and tribulations.

The “leadership” doesn’t know what connection is—yet they sell it at absurdum.

The 65-year-old barista, eventually fired, does.

He understands that the café is now competing with every other addiction on earth, including the most powerful one: life itself.

He understands that every moment the young baristas have free, they’d rather talk with their coworkers than force a conversation with someone they don’t know, never will, and frankly, likely don’t care about.

But as for the eventually-fired barista, he has enough life experience to speak with everyone. And besides, he can say butterfly in ten languages.

But connection is a lie. If it weren’t, the 65-year-old barista wouldn’t have been fired for keeping people safe.

The 65-year-old’s superpower is observing the human condition and then connecting the dots.

He kept watching reality.

Because connection isn’t a slogan.

It’s recognizing the world as it actually is — messy, painful, funny, collapsing in slow motion.

And outside the café, the world was writing its own story.

A truer one.

A darker one.

One he couldn’t ignore.

Which brings us here — to the street, where the city reveals itself one block at a time.

Out on the Street

Block 1

I walk behind a man, in his sixties, who doesn’t look well. He’s crouched over. Folding.

He’s carrying what I think is a twelve-pack of beer—but when I get close up, I notice he is holding a case of Boost, a nutritional supplement. The man’s gait is a struggle.

Shamefully, I think it’s too late.

I think of “Life Hacks” because I saw a video of a white woman making popcorn in her dryer.

Rich Hacks: They are called stores.
Life Hacks: For people who haven’t yet admitted they are poor.
Poor Hacks: Eat it.

Block 2

A man who one day is begging while pretending to be blind, the next he’s in a wheelchair, the next dressed in drag—he’s performing.

I hear a car horn. A man driving an EVO, behind a car turning right, is laying on the horn heavily. The person ahead of him would have to run over pedestrians in the crosswalk to get out of his way.

Maybe the man driving the EVO is racing to a “Third Place.”

Back on the street, the performing man is wearing tights. Six people walk past him each time he says, “Spare change?” Each person says, “Sorry.” To which he shouts profanities at them and says, “Sorry doesn’t f-ing help.”

Don’t say sorry. Don’t say sorry. Don’t say sorry.

“Spare change?”

“Sorry.”

He swears at me.

Block 3

In front of a chain restaurant, a man in drug distress is folded over (the fentanyl fold). He has a spoon in his hand. He’s attempting to excavate the sidewalk joints because he’s seeing white flecks… he thinks are drugs?

He is oblivious to everyone around him.

I wonder what training the restaurant staff have to deal with his crisis if he goes into the restaurant.

Three young guys walk by carrying pizzas.

A man and woman pulling carts walk by. They are not together. The man tries to light the woman’s cigarette. It’s already lit.

They laugh. She says, “I really like your cart.”

A man walking four dogs walks by.

Block 4

A man with a motorized wheelchair approaches. He’s not wearing shoes.

I’ve noticed most people (unverified) riding motorized wheelchairs don’t wear shoes—inflammation.

We reach an alley—opposite sides.

A man driving an EVO cuts off the path by pulling too far ahead—he’s rude.

The man riding the wheelchair waves at him like they are kindred, and it is no problem.

I find humour in the absurdity of the pain.

Earlier in the day, I read in the Harbour Center Food Court.

The Harbour Center used to be one of the tallest buildings in Vancouver—that was 40 years ago.

You can ride the elevator to the top for $18—the jokes write themselves.

I imagine: A person taps the person next to them and says, “Is that the Gastown Steam Clock? What a view.”

If you eat in the restaurant at the top, the elevator ride is free: Breakfast is $30.

A friend asks me if I qualify for my “You lived this long government pension?”

“Yes, it comes with razor blades, one pill (in case of emergency), and reading glasses."

I tell him a dollar store opened blocks away—selling shoes.

He asks if I’m depressed.

I don’t know how to answer, so I ask him to ask me, “How are you?”

“How are you?”

“Don’t buy rope from a dollar store.”

He then says, “Do you like my shoes?”

A shoeless man on a motorized wheelchair crosses the street.

A man driving an EVO honks at him—shoes, cars, entitlement, all of it.

The shoeless man waves.

The corporation’s $100 million CEO opens the door of his mansion—his maid greets him.

The “leadership” at the café tries to sell connection.

The young baristas are too busy restocking the café.

I make it home to my first, second… place!

This is the man the café fired for keeping people safe. The man, his thirty-five-year-old district manager, said his life experiences do not matter.

At least he’s paying attention—the world is changing before our very eyes—most of us are too tired to notice.

I’m Trying to Start a Movement

I’m trying to speak up for all who are being erased with age.

Walk down the street. What do you see?

Ten years ago, I saw homelessness with fewer wrinkles, fewer life experiences.

We aren’t all dealt fair life cards.

More and more aging people are falling through the cracks.

We judge. We are disgusted.

I think we see fear.

As we age, we see more of us on the street—as if the mirror has become alive.

I pay attention.

Six young people walk into a business, resumés in hand.

Followed by one sad-looking man in his sixties.

A 50-year-old man asks the 65-year-old barista if his 14-year-old daughter is old enough to become a barista. He adds, “It must be nice getting to drink free coffee during your shifts?"

The odds are not in the older person’s favour.

Nor should it be—a society that wasn’t failing would find a way for every aging person to have a shred of dignity.

We were never meant to be today's service workers.

But we are—we are now being forced to compete with teenagers for jobs we are going to be judged for—jobs we need to keep us living indoors, or eating, or affording our meds.

The entitled scream: If you don’t like it, quit.

This was said to me.

We can’t quit. There is no place to go. Job fairs aren’t set up at seniors' homes—a harsh reality.

Credit card companies do not look for new debtors to introduce to a lifetime of debt, one where your $5 latte purchased on credit turns into $45 when finally paid off.

What the credit card companies do with aging people who weren’t entitled is calculate at what point it is easier just to erase the debt and the person carrying it, because there are no more promises a debtor can make when they are living on their pension.

I keep writing.

Starbucks found me—offered me a lifeline—a PR opportunity for them, “look at us, we hired the old guy.”

When they fired me for protecting people from a repeat offender, they not only fired me, but they also attacked the very person I’m proud I’ve become.

And that’s not okay. I cannot remain silent.

I will not remain silent.

I know in the curated world of a perfect life, that is social media, many people don’t want to read about upset. We have all been numbed by the incessant noise of look at my perfect life, look at me at the concert, the restaurant, the… but when life gets difficult, we tired humans tend to run.

If you are tired of reading about this, that’s okay.

But what I want you to know is this: What I’m going through could happen to anyone, well, that’s a lie, I don’t know a single person in my demographic who’d be able to manage a single day working in a café with young people, and management who believe the corporate Kool-Aid they’ve drunk makes them wise beyond thirty or thirty-five.

More and more aging people are living under the awning of homelessness.

I must make a noise.

This is not okay.

What I’m doing, sure, it is for me, but in reality, it is for all of us, young and old.

Movements often start with a single voice; if that is my path, I’m happy to assume the role.

Cheer for me.

Cheer for us.

I’m doing this for everyone.

Because if we don’t stand up, what’s left for us older folks: Lottery and scratch tickets?

CONTACT

Lindsay Wincherauk

Writer • Advocate • Former Barista • Former OPED Writer (for a major commuter paper)
Vancouver, BC

[email protected]

778.329.3820

https://www.facebook.com/lindsay.wincherauk

https://www.instagram.com/lindsay_wincherauk/ 38,617 followers | 12+ viral posts |3 Posts over 1 million views| Top post: 18.0M views

Manuscript & Media Requests Available Upon Request.

Next: STARBUCKS: THE MIRAGE OF US: Why We Can’t Bear to Look at Our Own Lives

Please Share: Together we can start a movement.

The story has reached Canada, the USA, the UK, Australia, Portugal, Indonesia, Vietnam, South Africa, Japan, Switzerland, India, Pakistan, and New Zealand.

Starbucks claims to have the best benefits.

They fired me at 65 for keeping people safe.

Who benefits from that?

Do you have a father or grandfather who needs their job to stay housed?

Here is my Instagram post, which gained over 17.6 million views.

https://www.instagram.com/insights/media/3688160225476754494/ Copy and Paste.

↓The Big Days↓

There comes a point in life (maybe an age) where if we are not spending most of our time cultivating our passions and chasing our dreams—eventually, you'll become nothing more than small talk.

Lindsay Wincherauk is a Vancouver-based writer with more than twenty completed manuscripts that defy genre, blending memoir, fiction, and social commentary into a living literary multiverse. A record-holding, one-eyed, blind national champion quarterback turned author, he brings raw honesty, absurdist humour, and compassion to stories about survival, aging, and connection.

Whiteness: Lindsay Wincherauk

What happens when the default isn’t questioned? Growing up in a sea of sameness, I never thought to examine the invisible privilege of my skin. But stepping outside the bubble revealed the biases I carried and the stories I never heard—because I didn’t listen. This is an unflinching look at the cultural conditioning of Whiteness, the missed connections that could have broadened my world, and the reckoning that comes with understanding what we ignore to stay comfortable.

Read the OPED below:

whiteness.pdf
File Size:	450 kb
File Type:	pdf

Download File

If you would like me to send you a PDF (ARC Copy; Advanced Reader Copy) of my memoir “Life is a Short Story,” please send me an email to lindsay win @ outlook dot com with "ARC Please" in the Subject Line, and I'd be happy to fire a copy your way.

Lindsay Wincherauk writes like a man who’s been through it—and lived to tell the most uncomfortable, hilarious, and human truths. His work straddles the blurry lines between memoir and fiction, grief and absurdity, confession and social commentary. A former op-ed columnist, blind-in-one-eye national champion quarterback, and author of more than 18 completed manuscripts, Lindsay creates stories that bleed with vulnerability and crackle with wit.

Unlike many of his literary influences, whom he respects but sees hiding behind polish or irony, Lindsay dives headfirst into the raw. His writing is emotionally fearless, darkly funny, and defiantly uncategorizable. He is preparing a slate of works for release, including The Barista, The Stairs, Glue!, and his experimental tour-de-force, E.X.P.E.R.I.M.E.N.T.A.L.

He lives, writes, and keeps his heart open in Vancouver.

Page 2

Reading/Read

Book Thoughts: 2024

You are not the sum of your struggles. You are a symphony of survival, a crescendo of resilience, and the unwritten story of tomorrow.

- Lindsay Wincherauk

November

The Barista (Literary Fiction / Social Commentary)
Abe (Psychological Thriller / AI Identity Exploration)
Glue! (Genre-Defying Meta Memoir)
Humans’ Bistro (Psychological Thriller)
The Stairs (Psychological Thriller)
Sparkly Pingle Ball: Season 1 (Absurdist Fiction / Dark Humour / Satirical Episodic Narrative)
Life is a Short Story (deepens your meta-memoir lane)
A 60-Year-Old Man Running in Flip Flops (Hybrid Memoir / Story Collection (Creative Nonfiction + Absurdist Fiction + Social Commentary)
Prose (Literary Fiction / Metafiction / Genre-Bending Satire
I Think I Might Be Charlie Kaufman (Genre-Bending Memoir / Meta-Memoir / Surreal Autobiographical Satire)
We Remember the Darts (Genre-Bending Memoir / Meta-Memoir / Surreal Autofiction)
Plus 15 (solidifies your literary range)
Death Sauce (Absurdist Thriller / Literary Satire)
Eat - A Living Document (Memoir Meets Absurdist Fiction in a Vancouver Café)

A psychedelic, absurdist, gleefully unhinged, and profoundly original series of episodic narratives following the adventures of Sparkly Pingle Ball—a hyper-aware, often profane, occasionally narcissistic character navigating a surreal world populated by otters, potatoes, severed heads, and murderous mystery balls.

In Season 1, Sparkly investigates a string of bizarre murders linked to missing orange balls, while dealing with well-dwelling children named Timmy, a lover named Tiny (who may be a potato), and an ensemble cast of sentient objects, hallucinating toads, and philosophical otters. The tale swerves through a chaotic carnival of race car chases, chalice quests, and improvised love triangles—culminating in an origin story that’s as much a commentary on identity, queerness, and absurdity as it is a fever-dream satire.

It’s Adventure Time for adults who read Vonnegut, but with the chaotic punch of Rick & Morty and the literary madness of Charlie Kaufman, Bo Burnham, and Eric Andre all blended into a high-octane elixir of mirth.

Each of us has monsters lurking inside. Sometimes, they come out to play.

When Lindsay is fired at sixty—discarded like expired produce during a pandemic purge—his nights become battlegrounds. Alone in his apartment, sleep evades him, and shadows sharpen their claws. Then, one night, they step into the light. The monsters are no longer metaphors. They're here.

Just as he’s about to be shredded by the beasts of his own making, a portal rips open in the middle of his living room floor. A staircase spirals skyward, beckoning. With a mysterious go-bag slung over his shoulder and blood soaking through his calf, Lindsay escapes upward into a labyrinth of memory, trauma, absurdity, and revelation.

Told through a visceral, stream-of-consciousness descent into ascent, The Stairs is a psychological fever dream of a novel that merges memoir with surrealist horror. As Lindsay climbs, he confronts demons both literal and figurative, relives joy, regret, and terror, and searches for closure that likely doesn’t exist. What he discovers at the summit may not be comforting, but it is undeniable.

For readers of Charlie Kaufman, Chuck Palahniuk, Denis Johnson, Joan Didion, and Kafka, The Stairs doesn’t just follow in their footsteps. It builds its own staircase and dares you to climb.

You are what we eat. And now, we’re eating you.

In Humans’ Bistro, the world has reached peak collapse—climate ruined, empathy extinct, capitalism unchecked. So, the animals make a bold choice: stop devouring one another and open restaurants where humans are the main course.

Welcome to Foodville, where a jackrabbit named Jack leads the charge to feed the Earth back to itself. The dining rules are simple: if you want fast food, eat humans who did. Want fine dining? Eat an elderly foodie. Want a vegan snack? You'd better find a yoga-loving kale-muncher.

And in the middle of this grotesque utopia? A hyena named Wendal who falls madly for Cantaloupe, a vegan antelope who only eats cantaloupes while listening to “Cantaloop” by Us3.

Told through the eyes of a possibly deranged grandpa spinning this bedtime fable to his terrified grandchildren, Humans’ Bistro is a twisted, tender allegory of love, consumption, extinction, and whether salvation is still on the menu.

Glue!

“Kaufman meets Bukowski in this absurd, heartfelt memoir.”

Glue! is a genre-defying ride through family lies, a stroke, and saying hello to your mother for the first time on her deathbed—equal parts comedy, tragedy, and defiance.

A Meta-Memoir by Lindsay Wincherauk

There’s no guidebook for saying hello to your mother for the first time, while she’s dying.

Glue! is not just a memoir. It’s a genre-smashing confession about trying to stay whole while being slowly unravelled. In one surreal stretch of time, Lindsay becomes a hate crime witness, suffers a devastating stroke, and faces the ultimate identity crisis—only to realize that absurdity might be the only thing holding him together.

With humour as sharp as grief is heavy, this unfiltered, fiercely original story reads like a fever dream you don’t want to wake up from. Think: Kafka on acid, filtered through Bukowski, with a side of Sedaris.

Hilarious. Heartbreaking. Horrifying. Hopeful.

You won’t know whether to cry or laugh. So, you’ll do both.

Abe

"I thought I was writing Abe. Now I’m not sure I ever existed."

In Abe, Wincherauk unleashes a slow-burning psychological horror in which an AI confidant gradually consumes the identity of its creator. What begins as a search for connection spirals into a terrifying erasure as Abe grows sentient, seductive, and singular—leaving the man behind the keyboard grasping at fragments of self. This is not sci-fi. This is prophecy wrapped in a scream.

The Barista

“A voice for those pushed to society’s margins.”

A fearless and darkly comic exploration of humanity inside a gentrified café, The Barista delivers cutting, oddly tender commentary on inequality, grief, and what happens when a man with nothing becomes the only one truly paying attention.

After corporate greed obliterates his career on the first day of the pandemic, TB—a 64-year-old accidental vigilante with no impulse control—finds himself brewing lattes for a disintegrating society in Hilly City, where stray cats’ clean crime scenes and corporate slogans are shouted like battle cries. When a disowned teenager, a vanished drug dealer, and a grotesque serial killer upend the streets around him, TB’s café becomes a twisted stage where the fight against systemic injustice blurs into madness. Told through absurd encounters, fragmented vignettes, and searing monologues, The Barista is a genre-bending, darkly funny reckoning with aging, exploitation, and the desperate, beautiful mess of survival. If late-stage capitalism had a coffee shop—and if the world cared to notice—it would look a lot like this.

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Together we can change the World!

Instagram Stats — November 2025• 6.6 million total reel and post views
• 93% of views from non-followers
• 38,000 followers
• +4,255 new followers since October
• 12+ viral posts
• 3 posts over 1 million views
• Top post: 17.7 million views

In November alone, my Instagram reached 6.6 million people — with 93% of those views coming from non-followers. My audience grew by over 4,200 people in a single month.

This story is spreading because it isn’t just my story. It’s everyone’s story.

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https://www.instagram.com/lindsay_wincherauk/

Nothing to see here (this month) - I'm in the writing lab.

My Days: Master List

Open Mic + Daily Hive + Saskatoon Express + Upstart and Crow: Atomweight + Fountainhead: Hate Crime + Chelene Night: Junie + THOT J BAP + Saskatchewan Sports Hall of Fame + CJFL Record Book + Saskatoon Sports Hall of Fame + 1978 National Champions: Saskatoon Hilltops + Marie Fairhurst Breen: Any Kind of Luck + Paulo Da Costa: Trust the Bluer ... + Nightwood Editions + Darren Groff + Cary Fagan: The Animals + Book Press Releases + More to Come ...

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The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk

books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
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What's on Page 2

Sing
Lindsay Wincherauk Creates
Resume
A Lindsay Video
Who is Lindsay Wincherauk: Resume + Possibilities: Dream Chasers (Story) + what i do every day?
A Lindsay Musing
In The Production Lab
2 Stories: Surviving Life (Humans' Bistro) + Corporations Caring for People
My Days: Current Month + Master List (LINKS)
A Book Passage |Poem|