The beauty of Union Station's Grand Hall -- now the Hyatt Regency's lobby and cocktail lounge, replete with vaulted glass ceiling and handsome club chairs -- conjures up Bogart-Bacall romance: witty banter over stiff drinks with a secret paramour, the titillation of a clandestine rendezvous held in plain view. Enough of that: Now it's time to take it behind closed doors and inject a little Pamela-Tommy Lee kink into the affair. Tell your lovah you're paying a visit to the powder room and you'll be right back. But stop short of rounding the corner to the bathrooms beyond the Hyatt's front desk. Instead, inform the clerk in your best vestal-virgin voice that you're planning your wedding and shopping around for a honeymoon suite for the night of. Might you be able to check out a room? Happily agree to surrender your driver's license in exchange for a key. Head to the room. Once there, break out your cell, call your sweetie on his/hers, and change vocal tones to your smoky, seductive best. Give the room number and say you're waiting. If you're not sure where to take it from there, we're not going to tell you. In fact, we never told you any of this. It's really not a good idea.