I married the “practice“ wife a year out of college in 1979. She had driven Toyotas, and I always drove something exotic and had a Ford or Chevy truck. So I got her a sports car, a 65 European, and it was the first car anybody around us had that had the little idiot light for low gas. She loved the car, but I don’t think she ever looked at the needle again. She would drive it until the light popped on, she knew she had 30 to 50 miles, so then she go get gas.
So, time goes by, two or three years later, she calls me frantic from a shopping mall about 30 miles away, the car has died. Fortunately, she was in a parking lot where it was very easy to drive around her so there was no hazard. So I grabbed my tools and I rode out there and went all over the car and couldn’t find anything wrong, but it wouldn’t start. Well about the third time I looked at it I realized the needle was on empty. You know the rest of the story. She usually filled it up about once every other week, and she had been driving with the needle down there on empty empty for a month, but the light didn’t come on. I got a gallon of gas and got her going and a few days later I replaced the lightbulb. I made the mistake to joke about it at the next party. Wasn’t pretty. Somehow, I was in the doghouse for the rest of the marriage because Rick let her run out of gas.
Later, when the practice wife was gone, and I had learned my lesson, and I filled up both cars the #2 would drive every week.
I had a similar issue with her. I bought her this beautiful Olds Regency 98, used, low miles, perfect. But I didn’t realize that the speedometer was off by about a third. When you were going 45 it was telling you you were going like 25. So she’s riding in the 25 zone in the neighborhood and gets stopped by a cop and she gets a ticket. When I figured it out, we got her out of the ticket, but I’d joke at parties how she was riding only 25, the trees were flying past as if you were in a jet plane, but she’s only going 25! Yeah, she’s gone too....