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I did it myself once, about 2:00 AM in Minneapolis.  Had been at a Larry Norman concert with some friends, and we had stopped for something to eat.  I was about to pull on through to where I thought I was supposed to go (which was actually the correct lane), but my friends, fooled by having crossed a service road, said "This is your lane."  There was no traffic, so I didn't realize they were wrong.  I had just gone a few hundred feet when I saw headlights heading toward me.  I pulled off to my right (toward the center divider) & stopped.  It was a cop, and he really ran me over the coals.  Made me walk the line & all, accused me of having helped some juvenile delinquents escape from a detention center, and told me to Shut Up when he said my car was a so-and-so make, just like the one used in the escape, and I said, "No, my car is a Chrysler."  (Not the make he mentioned.)  There really was no traffic to speak of - I can't say if more than a few cars came past there while they were harassing me.   "They" because the first one called in a second car.  Finally, after realizing there was nothing else they could hang on me, they escorted me back those few hundred feet, between the two squad cars, while not a single car passed.  (It was around 1977, and I had a huge afro - that's what I figure the extra attention was about.)