So, Randy and I live just west of downtown Cincinnati. Just a few miles from the Ohio River.
When we bought this house, our plan was to move to northern Kentucky. I grew up there, my family lives there. It’s familiar.
I’m glad those plans didn’t work out.
We live just on the other side of the river from a house that we made an offer on, but didn’t get. Not getting that house probably saves me at least an hour in commute time.
I don’t think we’ll live in this house forever, but I’m glad we live here now.
My mom lives in northern Kentucky. We are closer to her now than where we were when we lived north of Cincinnati.
It still takes about as long to visit her because one of the bridges that connects Ohio and Kentucky is being renovated.
The bridge is open, but most of the lanes are closed, which makes it impossible to cross. All the bridges across the Ohio River are congested as well because of the other bridge’s traffic.
Travel by boat hasn’t been an option for us until now.
We totally forgot about the Anderson Ferry.
Anderson Ferry is a few miles from our house. It’s five dollars for a one way trip. No bridges.
We’ve availed ourselves of the ferry a number of times now.
Depending on our destination, I have to use the GPS on my phone.
If I’m going to my mother’s house, there’s no problem.
If I’m trying to end up southbound on I-75, I have to take a bunch of back roads near the Cincinnati airport. They confuse me. The roads didn’t used to confuse me. I used to know my way around, but all the roads changed and my brain refuses to accept the change.
They also changed the roads up at the Taylor Mill exit in Kentucky where my mom lives. I mean, I get it now. I understand the new roads, but I don’t like them. Not one bit.
Anyway, we took the Anderson Ferry ferry last weekend.
We needed to get to I-75, so I put my GPS on before we boarded the ferry.
My GPS rerouted a few times and tried to make me drive east on River Road because there’s actually a road.
Me: I don’t think the GPS cares at all that we’re about to drive into the Ohio river.
Me: Seriously, we’re about to leave land in a minute and the GPS doesn’t give a fuck. It just keeps re-routing.
Randy: The GPS is supposed to care?
Me: That’d be cool, wouldn’t it? Like as soon as we drive onto the ferry, the GPS would start freaking out. “Oh MY GOD. You are in the river! You were so young. Who is going to tell your family? This is so sad…oh..what..wait? You’re on a FERRY? Oh, don’t I feel silly. Whew..okay. Give me a minute. That really scared me. You know, it would be super polite if next time you warned me. I’m just saying.”
Me: That would be a neurotic GPS, wouldn’t it? So, if you asked for directions, it would only take you there using right turns, even if it added hours to the trip. Because who is crazy enough to turn left across traffic?
Randy: I wish that were real. I’d get it for you and worry less.
Me: Whatever, grandpa.
Me: What if they made a GPS that was controlled by cats?
Me: You’d tell the GPS an address and then it would say “Busy licking my butthole right now. Ask again never.”
Randy: Those dump trucks are huge.
I don’t know, you guys, I think he was trying to change the subject. In his defense, we were on a ferry with two big dump trucks filled with rocks.
Me: Doesn’t the ferry seem like it’s closer to the water right now?
Randy: They are big trucks.
Me: I am not entirely comfortable with this.
The ferry attendant collected our money and I was very proud of myself for not asking “Sooooo….you get big rock filled trucks on here often?”
Me: Wonder what happens if the attendant comes by and the person doesn’t have 5 bucks?
Randy: Well, we are on water. Different rules and all.
Me: So, they throw them off and drown them?
Randy: Maybe. She’s coming around again. Ask her.
Me: Nah, we’re on water, I don’t want to go to prison.
Me: Do you see life jackets anywhere? I don’t think the Ohio river is fit to swim in.
Me: I did once, when I was around 18. I went water skiing. I’m sure I drank a little river water.
Randy: That explains some things.
Me: Okay, so what if the GPS were designed to only respond to Donald Trump?
Randy: I will have them throw you overboard.
Me: They can’t. I paid. We follow the rules of water now, my friend.
Me: Wonder how deep it is?
Randy: That’s what she said.
Me: I am so proud of you right now! You used the “that’s what she said” phrase correctly.
Randy is super bad at the “that’s what she said” phrase. Seriously. He mostly sucks. I can say “Did you make coffee?” and he’ll say “That’s what she said”. Which is accurate, but not at all funny.
Randy: Did you know that blind horses on treadmills used to power the ferry?
Me: Where’d they find blind horses?
Randy: Blind horses gotta eat.
Me: No horses now. Poor blind horses.
Me: Okay, no kidding. What if the GPS designed to only respond to Donald Trump?
Randy: Land laws apply again.
Me: I don’t understand how that saves you from this conversation.
Randy: This is a Trump free zone.
Me: Fair enough. Now, go get me some Tootsie Pops.
I realize Tootsie Pops have nothing to do with any of this. But Randy has been getting me two or three every weekend and now they are required. How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop? It doesn’t fucking matter. As long as I have one. And it’s cherry. Or maybe raspberry.
I don’t want to make Randy feel bad or anything, but the last few weeks, I have had no cherry tootsie pops. Only raspberry. I blame his purple sunglasses.
The big dump trucks exited the ferry once we were on solid ground.
Randy: See? We didn’t need the life jackets.
Me: And we paid. This was a successful ferry trip.
The GPS pulled through and got us where we needed to be. Still didn’t seem to care that we careened into the river.
Honestly, I don’t really know if the ferry saves us any time or not, but we do have more fun.