Busted in New York City

No, this is not another gambling venture...and Julie "craps out" in the Big Apple.

This is purely and simply all about sex...illicit sex!


Just when we had accepted the fact that there was no sex in the life of Julie and Ron Newell, or any worth hearing about, or that Ron would talk about, here he goes trying to get our interest back!

Well, to paraphrase the line from an old John Wayne movie (McClintock!), "I won't listen! I won't, I won't, the hell I won't!"

Tell us about it, Ron...puuuuleeeeze!

In 1985, Julie and I decided to made up for lost time...we decided we would vacation...on both sides of the United States. (Well, everyone kept saying from day one that the marriage "would never last", so why spend all of that money on an elaborate honeymoon and have to turn around and toss all the memories as we moved on to other partners?!)

We would visit the East coast first, starting by driving to Washington, DC, moving up to the city of "Brotherly Love", on to New York City (to visit Rachel, who was interning with the New York Times), and finally heading to Niagara Falls...HAD to do that one on our belated honeymoon! On the second leg of our journey, we would fly to Los Angeles, CA, drive up the coast to San Fransisco to visit her brother, David, before finally returning to LA...and home!

(Trust me, the "odds" were that such a bicoastal excursion would be cheaper than TEN DAYS in Las Vegas!)

As I look back, it amazes me today that we were able to complete such an exhausting itenerary...and STILL have time for illicit sex! Ah, young puppies in love!

Actually, as I "do the math"...these puppies weren't all that young. Julie was 19 when she started working at good ol' CHS in September 1969...and I was 5 years older than she. (I know, I know, Julie...6 years older...for 5 damned days!) So, we were...uh...as I said, DO THE MATH!

Yeah...he's doing it again! Gives us the "tease" at the beginning of this post and then, as he likes to say..."I digress."

Get on with it, Ron!

Oh, but I digress...

When we got to New York City, we checked into our hotel, which was none too shabby. Of course, we had not become the world travelers that we - especially Julie - would become in later years. Most likely, it was your standard "Big City" hotel...with the valet parking, the doorman, the concierge, the security station, the "frilly" room with a four-poster bed, the turn-down service...and the BIG freaking bill at checkout! Ah, the beginning of credit card debt...

Anyway, after we checked in during the late afternoon, we went to pick up Rachel and take her out to dinner. Julie had the lobster, Rachel had filet mignon, and I had a good time making up this whole "menu thing". I don't have a clue what anybody had for dinner 22 years ago! Hell, we may have gone to McDonald's! I mean, the illicit sex part of this story is next...do you want to talk appetizers or do you want to get down to business?!

I thought so...

During dinner...wherever...Julie was bragging to Rachel about our hotel room, to which Rachel listened with some curiosity, while rolling her eyes at Julie's most gushing descriptors. But...Rachel WAS interested, so we decided that she would spend the night at our hotel. We ran her by her apartment so that she could pack an overnight bag and then headed for our hotel. (By the way, yes, this was our belated "honeymoon", but we weren't "kids" anymore. I mean, age-wise, we were...well, you know...YOU did the math! So...in the presence of her sister, we could control our "urges"...at least for one night!)

Until, of course, the illicit sex!

Did I tell you about...

No, just kidding...it IS time for the illicit sex!

When Rachel, Julie, and I innocently arrived at the hotel, with Rachel toting her bag, and started toward the bank of elevators, a "suit" steps in front of us and says "Excuse me!" We don't have a clue who he is or what he wants, so we innocently inquire "What's the problem?"

Well, I forget the exact dialogue...so many years and being quite taken aback at the time. And, I don't want to waste further time trying to make something up. Let's just lay out the bare facts!

The "suit" was a security agent for the hotel. His "problem" was that he saw this white man entering the hotel with two beautiful, young, black women...one on each arm. Actually, he didn't see two beautiful, young, black women. As we quickly deduced from his comments and questions, he saw a white man bringing two black hookers into the hotel for shall we say, yes, "illicit sex".

The "suit" was concerned about "appearances". He said that we could NOT go up to our room...NOT buying for a "New York minute" the truthful explanation that one of these beautiful young ladies was my wife, and the other was my sister-in-law. (Yep, NOT just in Southern Illinois, Southeast Missouri, or Western Kentucky, but even in NEW YORK CITY!)

Well, you know my personality...and you know Julie's. I stand there...not knowing what to say...probably looking guilty as charged! Julie was, shall we say, "indignant". She let him have it...

However, Mr. Security was NOT impressed. Afterall...what kind of response WOULD he be expecting from one of New York City's "not-so-finest"?!

Maybe that's when I learned the fine art of negotiations.

By the time Julie had finished with the security guard, he had definitely gotten his dander up. He was determined that this uppity, black ho wasn't going to get the best of him!

I butted in...and Julie even let me. By then, Julie was so mad that she was speechless...just stood there with her hands on her hips...staring holes in the man!

Now, I don't remember exactly what I said...and maybe it wasn't even WHAT I said. Maybe it was just my look of desperation! (I mean, after all, I HAD been on my way to my room...with these two hot hoes!) So...Mr. Security finally says "All right, you can have them for an hour...but then they have to leave!"

We scurried up to the room...and spent the whole night. Oh, after the first hour, we did spend a couple of hours taking turns looking out the peep hole...waiting for security and/or the police to come pounding on the door, but we never heard anything more about the incident.

Yep...that's it...nothing more. That's the night Rachel, Julie and I were "busted in New York City."

Gotta admit, though, the headlines in the morning paper could have been interesting...especially if the Cairo Evening Citizen had picked up on the story. "Teacher arrested for soliciting prostitutes in downtown hotel!" (I wonder...would that have helped or hurt my reputation?)

Or, how about "Secretary/bookkeeper arrested for prostitution!"

Well, we'll never know...

I'm sorry...got your hopes up...only to dash them again! I told you before, and YOU JUST NEED TO ACCEPT IT...JULIE AND RON NEWELL DID NOT HAVE SEX. Well, there goes my credibility again...I hope!

Oh, by the way, did I tell you about the time I was almost arrested for pedophilia?

No, we won't drag this story out...IT IS NOT TRUE!

But...when we first started dating (and occasionally after we got married...just for old times sake), Julie would have a little "fun" with her overly shy "Ronnie".

After we would arrive at a restaurant, theater, whatever, Julie would intentionally hesitate...lag behind. About the time that I realized that she was not at my side and turned to look back, I would hear a high-pitched, waif-like, little voice...

Mister...Mister! You promised me a lollipop!"

I would turn to find her walking "childlike...all innocent and shy", thumb stuck in her mouth, looking at me with this hurt expression in her eyes!

Talk about wanting to disappear!

Fortunately, MOST of the time, she had "scoped out the area" and knew that there was no one around to hear the exchange, but that didn't make it any easier on me. My heart would rise to my throat and I would quickly look all around for "witnesses". And, she wondered why I didn't have much of an appetite in the restaurant or couldn't seem to concentrate on the movie. Hell, I was too busy looking for the police to show up!

And I emphasized "most" of the time.

There were a couple of times when she "miscalculated" (maybe...), because after her "routine" and my panicked looking around to see if anyone had heard, some people DID stop what they were doing and look quizzically in our direction.

I would walk back to Julie and desperately whisper "Julie! You are going to get me into trouble!!!"

Fun is fun, but THAT would surely end the game, right?

Julie would look up at me, thumb still firmly in mouth, kick the ground with the toe of her shoe, bat her eyelashes and say...

"But, Mister..."