Comedy Corner: BLK: No, it’s not a new kind of sandwich

Bad line karma.
It’s when you consistently choose the wrong check-stand line to wait in at the supermarket or store. It can also include waiting for the next available gas pump at the gas station.
I have suffered from BLK for about five years. I think it started the day I did not let this little old lady go ahead of me in line at the checkout stand at Snob Hill.
I had about 20 items, and she had one. She looked up at me desperately, holding a package of Depends in her hands, but she did not ask me to let her go ahead, so I ignored her forlorn, hopeless stares. I had to get home in time to see my favorite TV show.
Looking back, I think she really needed to go to the bathroom — like, real bad. I guess it was the watery eyes and the red face that gave it away, but did I care? No!
Ever since, I have come to believe I have been suffering from BLK.
BLK comes in many different forms. It usually starts when the grocery clerk’s register tape runs out and he cannot feed the new one through the little hole. For some reason, this happens at CVS a lot. One time, I almost jumped over the counter to do it for him.
Another form is when the person ahead of me writes a check and it will not pass through.
So then, there is a blowup of some kind by the customer, and a manager has to come in to smooth it over.
There are also those famous price checks. You know, the kind where the bag boy disappears for what seems like hours, because he got a text or ran into his girlfriend.
And how about when the clerk cannot remember the vegetable code on the new broccoli-flower? You know, the one that looks like it’s from Mars?
Waiting for gas is the hardest one, though. Sitting there while you wait, as the customer walks in, stands in line to pay, then slowly comes out, pumps the gas, washes his windows, cleans his car, then slowly walks back in to buy snacks. I don’t call this one a BLK. It’s more like a nuclear-bomb BLK. An NBBLK.
I use all the tricks in the book when this one happens: praying, cleaning the inside of my car, calling a friend. I could risk a confrontation by getting out of my car and yelling wildly at the person, but it would probably result in one of us getting killed: me.
To my astonishment, the only cure I have found for BLK is to let people go in front of me in line. What’s even more amazing is doing it when they have a whole basketful and I have only one item.
It works — it really works. I now have better BLK. Plus, I sleep better at night.
Michael Larson is a 14-year resident of Felton and an aspiring comedy writer. He lives with his dog Blue. Contact him at

mi***************@ya***.com











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