DH decided that my cute little MGB was too small for him and it was a cranky little thing and I could always smell gas when we drove it. However, the real problem was that I was driving German and DH was driving British. The horror!
He stewed. He pouted. And one day, he came home driving this little white 356 Porsche. That car was such a piece of crap and looked like it was going to fall apart at any second, collapsing into a pile of dust and nuts and bolts. I am thinking it was a '58. I remember I could see the road through the floorboard. LOL!
If we had spent a few grand and a couple of years, that 356 would have looked just like this one. As it happened, DH kept that car for about 6 hours until I talked him into taking it back to the private seller who kindly gave DH his money back. This was not a car for driving to work. It was a car for a serious classic enthusiast who wanted to restore that baby and who had major mechanical talents.
That 912 had a black leather interior that got so hot in the Tampa summer heat that it would burn your legs and it was down and dirty on the road, a rough ride. She looked good but she rattled your gizzard and it took a few minutes after you reached your destination for your eyeballs to stop jiggling around in your head. It was uncomfortable as hell but she was fast and hot damn! DH looked fine driving that yellow Porsche.
DH (at that time still, DBF), was at peace and he thought he had a hotter car than his adorable, car fiend girlfriend, for once...
But not for long!