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You get ready to go to the bar to sink a couple carbombs with some friends and you turn the key and......nothing. You go inside to grab some tools and the old lady, standing with your kids says "So Ace, you taking my car tonight?" You mumble some words that could end in divorce and 15 min later, you realize that when you moved that fuse box, the lame Triumph connectors that have no lock into the box and are solely dependant on the tension of the fuse contact have decided to give up today. Sweet, 5 min later your at the bar drinking smithwicks, the old lady a distant memory, tools in your pocket in case it decides to give up on the way home. I love my bike! :chug:
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