When I traveled around on my motorcycle, I made it a point to avoid interstate highways. One evening I stopped in a small Indiana town with a park that looked like a good place to spend the night.
The town cop was sitting in his car parked by the curb. I rode up to his car, introduced myself, and said, "I'd like to pitch my tent in your park tonight, but I'm worried about someone messing with my bike. I wonder if you could kind of keep an eye on it as you're making your rounds."
His chest swelled up a bit, his face took on a take-charge air, and he said, "I'd be glad to. Don't worry, you and your bike will be fine."
I pitched my blue nylon tent next to my bike and crawled into my sleeping bag. That night I had police protection that would be the envy of foreign diplomats and rock stars. Whenever I happened to wake up, I could hear the cop slowly cruising by.
When I started putting everything back into my bedroll the next morning, I noticed a sign near the park entrance that read, "NO OVERNIGHT CAMPING".