by Mary Ann Patton
Walking down the hall to take the elevator up the 12 stories gave me a little time to think: Should I sleep with C-list celebrity Dustin Diamond, better known as Screech Powers from Saved by the Bell?
Earlier in the evening, after showing my fake ID to get into a comedy club and throwing back a couple of beers, I found myself in the perfect position to heckle the television star I admired when I was younger. A few minutes into the set he asked for the Jews to make themselves known. This medium-sized audience in this medium-sized regional city held only one. Not being Jewish myself, I still clapped in support, and, when he pointed out my being a gentile to the rest of the crowd, I proudly shouted back, “I love Jews.”
The banter continued with jokes, winking and a few obscene hand gestures, I was even able to get a few laughs from the crowd on my own.
Post-show, Diamond waited outside to sign autographs and take Polaroids with anyone willing to shell out 10 bucks. I told him I was going out for drinks and that he was more than welcome to come along. He asked for my number instead and said he would call after finishing up his business at the comedy club.
For some reason that I still don’t fully understand myself, I actually scribbled my information down and handed it over.
A couple of neat J&B’s later, my phone rang. I made my way over to the Marriot. Three steps inside the door and his tongue was down my throat. The forwardness of his kiss continued onto the bed, which was where he informed me that he was a “tits man” and that mine “were pretty nice.” And people say men can’t compliment a girl like they used to.
The sex was extremely awkward, and Diamond shifted from one position to the next with all the grace of a 14-year old boy. After 10 minutes, he pulled out to cum on my stomach. The fact that he yelled out “Moo Goo Gai Pan” while ejaculating only heightened the magical moment. He offered to wipe me down with a towel, but I excused myself to the bathroom with a simple: “No, that’s ok. I can clean it up myself.”
The pillow talk consisted of 45 minutes of Diamond telling me about Adult Swim cartoons. He also showed me dozens of small plastic Halloween figurines he apparently collects.
It was third grade show and tell all over again, only I was topless. He went into great detail about these figurines, explaining which were rare and which “came in almost every fucking box.” Every time I reached for my shirt or looked at the time he interrogated me, asking me what I was doing. Finally, a friend called and I was able to get dressed and go. I walked over to the door, but Dustin wouldn’t stop talking. Standing there I couldn’t think of anything else to do but jiggle the door handle. With that action Diamond finally took the hint that I was ready to get the fuck out.
I’ve never been happy about sleeping with Dustin Diamond, but, when I can make someone’s day by sharing how I fucked Screech, the whole thing seems worthwhile.