Whacha’ Doing?

Even police officers have slow nights, and look for ways to stir up a little excitement during those lonely shifts.

One such incident, a longtime favorite at the station, was told and retold, always with a grin, by the two officers who lived it.

A popular pastime during those hot, drowsy summer nights was sneaking up on lovers parked along rural roads, their cars silhouetted against the moonlight, in hopes of catching the occupants in a compromising situation. Intrigue was in short supply, after all.

On this particular night, the two officers quietly hiked up a steep embankment, boots muffled against the grass, being extra careful not to tip off the perceived lovers. Ten minutes of stealthy climbing later, one officer jabbed his flashlight through the driver’s side window and growled, “Whatcha doin’?”

In perfect, panicked unison, the young couple blurted out, “Eatin’ chicken!”

Inside, two teenagers sat frozen in the front seat, wide-eyed and scared, shaking as shockwaves rattled their peaceful picnic. Between them sat a grease-spotted box of Kentucky Fried Chicken.

There went any hopes of a juicy story to bring back to the station. Even the officers couldn’t help but laugh at the anticlimax, and their efforts were rewarded when the bashful diners offered them each a drumstick.

Whether it cooled the officers’enthusiasm for “skylighting” after that, who’s to say? But on slow summer nights, a little fried chicken diplomacy was better than nothing. Of course, those kids ‘eatin chicken,’ no doubt had the last laugh.