Another beautiful Spring day in Capital City commenced with owners of German coupes from far and wide sharing breakfast at a trendy inner city diner surrounded by many of Capital City's finest monuments of national significance, amidst vigorous discussion of exhaust systems, tyre life, rust treatment and how early each of us had got up that day.
After breakfast was done we headed to our regular meet point, Old Parliament House, one of Capital City's most well-known monuments of national significance, where we were joined by die hard 6er fanatics Team Serco.
We unanimously decided that now was the time to have a quick go in each other's cars. I had a go in the Merc. Not bad, nice drive, very luxurious, it's got a driver's arm rest and the seat belt extends out to greet you - not even my Filthy BMW does that. Statham also had a go in the Merc. Strewth he looked good in that car, very dapper in his suit.
I then had a go in the red car. Its a manual. I've never driven a manual 6er before. Had to push the seat all the way forward to make sure I could reach that clutch properly, but fair's fair, Alex is more than twice as tall as me. Both members of Team Serco took a turn driving my car, to suss out the differences and similarities between a '76 633 and an '86 635. I think they noticed one or two slight handling differences.
But soon we headed off, Captain in the lead, providing an informative and captivating commentary of Capital City's many monuments of national significance.
Then.... DISASTER!! The Captain's car, the man in charge, the bloke supposedly running this show in the car that everybody wants.... Kaput! No jigawatts. The world's most famous brown coupe was broken down with no go whatsoever at a set of traffic lights with four luxury German coupes behind him. They were honking horns, they were shouting abuse,
"Come on mate, it doesn't get much greener, come on mate, whaddya waitin' for, an invitation? Come on mate!" The Captain's sardonic wit and effervescent commentary of Capital City's monuments of national significance suddenly turned to a mellow,
"I can't get me car started." 
Team Serco leapt into action. Recognising how pitiful it looks to be in a shining, gleaming, luxury sports coupe that's broken down at an intersection, they quickly pushed the car to safety, 'popped' the 'hood', and set to work checking fuel lines, listening to fuel pumps and diagnosing electrical connections. Alex even whipped the coil out of his car (the red one, its a manual) so we could try it on mine to see if it was the cause.
In the meantime Statham leaned forward and said,
"Oi, wot about them loose cables back there?" as he pointed to the pulse generator leads. They were indeed loose, they had disconnected. Team Serco plugged them back in, I turned the ignition key, and the Filthy car came roaring back to life. With big grins, high fives and low fives all round, I turned to Statham and he said to me,
"Oi, do I have xxxx written on my forehead?"
With my car once again fully functional, we headed off for the second time that day.
It's a manual.
Oi. Do I have
xxxx written on my forehead?
And that's it in a nutshell. Thank you all for coming along, especially given the significant distances you all had to drive to make it. And thank you all for being there for me in a flash when the car died. The day was looking in doubt for about ten minutes there, but it all turned out pretty bloody good in the end.
Regards,
Ellis.
!
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