Where Is Rhett Butler?

He choked on Zoom? Are you kidding? “ I ask Jane. I’m on zoom with my sixty plus friends Moo Moo, Jane, and Bill. Since the quarantine we talk we zoom every day, complain about the pandemic, and mostly discuss l looking for love.

“On a noodle. Choked and turned blue and that was it,” Jane says with a sad sigh. “I watched the medics carry the poor guy out. My luck. He was a 90-year-old billionaire. Right after I blew him, he invited me to his mansion in Finland where there’s no Covid. He was going to give me his dead wife’s jewelry.”

“Baby girl, what do you expect?” Moo Moo shouts. “The oldies choke, have strokes, die on the toilet.”

Bill says, “You ladies aren’t the only ones. At a Covid zoom meetup, I met Jake. He was 80, and ran marathons. Hot as a pistol. We had great sex, and wore masks. He asked me to live with him at his Sonoma winery. We were in bed watching Star Wars and I thought he was sleeping. He was dead.”

“All of you need youngies. The oldies wear diapers.” Moo Moo presses her red huge lips.

“You wear Depends!” snaps Jane, holding Roger, her English pug.

“Only after my last Vagina Rejuvenation,” Moo Moo sniffs.

“Rejuvenation my ass,” I say. “You mutilated your vagina for Vladimir, that thirty year old Russian trainer. Who stole your Berkin bags when you were sleeping.”

“Ladies! Stop!” Bill says. “ Things go wrong. People die.”

“Where is Rhett Butler? “ I say. “I dream I’m fucking him. I love him.”

“Stop with the Rhett Butler shit!” Moo Moo yells. “It dates you. No one knows who the fuck Rhett Butler is.”

Barbara Rose Brooker/author of recently published Love, Sometimes, Post Hill Press/Simon Schuster, and The Viagra Diaries/Simon Schuster, and other books.

This piece is part of The Corona Diaries and Other Things, her new book she is working on- www.barbararosebrooker.com