Red Lights

Merril calls herself “Red Light Girl.”  Just because lights seem to turn red when she wants to go through, means nothing.  Actually, she does seem to have more than her fair share of red lights.
I call myself, rugged, handsome, debonair, suave and then I kick the bedpost and wake up.  I am though, Superman.  I can only say that as I don’t have a match.  I use a long lighter on the bbq.
I felt today I should be called “Red Light Guy.”  It seemed I was getting every red light I could.  Having left the house I wanted to turn right onto a main road.  Traffic!  I don’t want to talk about it.  Except I am.  There was such a stream, I decided to go left instead.
I needed petrol.  The little light that comes on signified that.   The fact it was on, was brought to my attention the other day.  I was blissfully unaware of it.  How long I was going to remain blissful though, was anyone’s guess.  I expected to make it to the petrol station, but it was not guaranteed.  I could have run out like I did using the work van driving on Coronation Drive.  I discovered places I never knew existed in my hunt for petrol.  Putting the can of fuel in the tank, I found out how unpopular I was. 
Another time the little light came on, just as I left Ayr, to go to Townsville.  It may have changed, but back then there were no petrol stations until one got to Townsville.  It was a very stressful trip.  It was stress I could have done without thank you very much.
I have only ever run out of petrol once, that I remember.  Fortunately, I was able to glide to a service station.  They were just about to close, and the guy was at the pump when I came trundling in.  I think I was his last customer.
Going left proved to be uneventful until I reach the lights.  They were red.  Then my lane got a green arrow.  The first car dutifully used it.  The car in front of me wanted to go straight ahead.  The green arrow disappeared, and the lights were red.  Then the traffic going the other way got a green light.  I waited as you do.  Eventually the lights were green, and I moved.
There are lights into the service station.  They were red.  I got to the service station and had forgotten which side the petrol tank was on.  After getting out and looking, I found it was on the left.  What did I do?  I reckon I got behind the person that was the least way along in getting their petrol.  I waited.  And waited. And waited.  They emerged from paying for their petrol and moved on, but I had aged.
I went to the petrol tank and discovered I had not released the cap.  So I went back to the driver’s seat.  It was then I realized I did not know where the leaver was for the petrol cap.  I spent ages looking, and then thought I had found it and released it.  I only then discovered I had released the bonnet and not the petrol cap.  I found the leaver, put petrol in and then paid for it, looking as nonchalant as possible.
I continued on my journey.  Nothing seemed noteworthy after what I had just been through – except the red light when I was leaving the petrol station.  It was green right until I could have used it.