Excuses, excuses! All they do is float back and forth, back and forth, and all they have to do is slide right into the slip, smooth as butter, but no, they gotta ram da pilings. They'd rather replace the pilings than learn how to do it right. You'd think the shoe-shine guy was the docking consultant for goodness sake.
Who ever heard of the ferries being influenced by all those waterways, all the way up to Indian Point on the Hudson; next thing I expect you'll tell me is that the boats hit the dock because the water is salty.
No, J.R., they hit the dock because they w a n t to hit the dock. It's the only excitement in those boat drivers lives. I never saw no Venetian gondolier hit da dock, and I'll bet those ancient Egyptians, Greeks, Romans, and even the Toiks in da Bosporus didn't ram the slip. I don't recall Homer mentioning no Argive ships banging into the beach at Troy.
No, J.R., they bang the slips because the drivers are StatNislandahs, and they do it just for the hell of it, the way StatNislandahs are raised to do. If you were a ferryboat driver, that's probably what you'd do, because no one gets raised on StatNisland without absorbing a little of the ol' BallBust*r in the local high schools. I think they hit the piers just to see how much coffee they can spill. They get extra points for knocking the sauerkraut off the hot dogs, the ones you remember all day.
Someday they'll get it right, perhaps, when they get pilots outta finishing school.
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