This almost-ran-out-of-gas fiasco occurred during our Thanksgiving roadtrip. I think we filled the tank with 1/10 gallon to spare. Joe has obviously been a very bad influence on me.
I was kind of (a lot) spoiled to get 2 cars from my parents in high school (not at the same time, of course). I was required to get a job to pay for gas and the occasional speeding ticket. Beyond that, I had two obligations:
1) Always keep the gas tank at least half-full I'm still not sure exactly why my dad demanded this; I think that a.) it kept me from running out of gas, and b.) if there was ever an emergency, and we needed to get out of Lincoln City, we could always make it to Grandma's house 'cause she had the food storage.
2) Keep my car clean, inside and out. This would include times when my dad would passive-aggressively get his own vehicles out to wash in the driveway...sometimes on Saturday mornings. I would eventually make it outside in my pajamas and half-heartedly help.