One quiet summer night, about 2:00 A.M., my partner and I are driving in the middle of nowhere. There isn’t a soul in sight. To say the least, there is no activity.
As I drive near a state game area I was familiar with, I decided to park the patrol car by an old covered-bridge that crossed over a small stream. The bridge was actually closed for safety reasons; but we could get out and stretch our legs.
I pulled the car to the side of the dirt road about halfway into the brush, and my partner and I got out to enjoy the fresh air and to take a break from driving in unproductive circles. We had been talking for a few minutes when a car came down the roadway toward the bridge. Two couples got out; we could hear their conversation clearly.
One couple decided to walk down the road a bit while the other couple stayed on the bridge. They would each have some time alone with their dates. The two couples agreed to meet back at the car in about forty-five minutes.
My partner and I were standing about twenty-five feet from the couple on the bridge. But it was incredibly dark and they had no idea there were two male troopers nearby.
We listened as the male tried to convince the female to have sex on the bridge. He pleaded and used every line in the book—it was all we could do to stifle our laughter. She kept saying things like “I don’t like it out here. Trolls live under bridges and people get murdered. Just like in the horror movies.”
He continued to reassure her that the area was safe and he was actually making a little progress toward his goal. He said, “There’s nobody out here for miles. HELLOOO!” His voice echoed in the night.
My partner, who had a deep voice, howled back in his scariest voice, “Fressshhhh meeaatt!!!!!” The couple screamed in terror and ran for the car! They drove away fast, honking the horn for the other couple. We heard car doors slam down the road—but we were laughing too hard to know what was said.