I was in a grocery store last night when I got stuck behind an older man riding one of those electronic riding carts. No doubt you’ve seen the carts I’m talking about. Stores provide them for the handicapped, extremely obese and for people who are just plain curious how best to replicate the fun of traffic jams in grocery store aisles.

Now, I’m not about to go bagging on the handicapped or anything. I understand that some people legitimately need these carts and my brief inconvenience is nothing compared to their everyday inconveniences.

(Obligatory – I’m not a jerk explanation) In fact, I often (okay, maybe twice in the past year) help people in their mechanical carts when they need to reach out-of-reach items. Being six foot four, I am used to assisting people who ask for help reaching the high shelves. Sometimes, I think I should wear a shirt to grocery stores that reads: “Yes, I’ll get that for you.”

But back to the issue here.

There is a matter of etiquette when it comes to dealing with a handicapped person. People want to be treated as equals. While you might need to make special accommodations to help a handicapped person, I would guess that most probably don’t want any attention called to their handicap or to be treated any differently beyond whatever is necessary.

However, in efforts of being polite, might we also offend?

So here’s the situation as it played out last night.

I was behind what I can only describe as the slowest cart I’ve ever been behind. It was being driven by an otherwise lively looking, well-dressed man in his late 50s or so. We were on our way out of the store and slowly approaching the exit doors. We were about 40 yards from being outside the store (it’s a rather long exit area with two sets of doors), and he was in no rush. It seemed almost as if he was taunting everyone behind him by barely …… moving ……. at ………all.

I could easily have gone around the guy. In fact, I oftentimes find myself behind people who decide that the exit is the perfect place to stop and look over their receipts, while they block anyone else from leaving. I always race around these idiots. But this situation was different. This guy, for whatever reason, was going slow, but probably not intentionally to be an insensitive jerk.

I didn’t want to be rude and cut in front of this guy, even though there was no way on Earth I would impede his progress, even if I jumped in front of him and stopped to tie my shoes before moving out of the way. No, I wouldn’t have been really cutting him off, but at the same time, I didn’t want to make him feel bad for blocking people’s progress.

Also, I didn’t want to be seen by others as the guy cutting off the handicapped dude just to make sure my cookies and cream ice cream didn’t melt.

“Hey, wasn’t that David Blogger Dad Wright? Look, he just jumped in front of a handicapped guy! What a jerk!”

But then I wondered, am I being rude by NOT cutting him off?

Hear me out.

I am, essentially, treating this guy differently by not getting in front of him. Is that not rude? Would it have been kinder and more sensitive of me to simply cut in front of him? I mean, I would have cut in front of anybody else going that slow, unless I saw that they had a problem or something. I was treating him differently simply because of his handicap, right?

Rather than jump in front of him, I did the “polite thing” and slowly walked behind him as if I were auditioning for a role as a giant tortoise.

Other people began to get caught up in the line. A woman behind me gave me a look and an uncomfortable smile. We made our way out through the first doors and had one more set to get through. However, and I swear I am not making this up, his cart got stuck over the slight rise in the exit. I think the lady behind me began to cry.

I asked the guy if he’d like some help, thinking maybe I could help push his cart over the hump. The woman behind me echoed the offer. He simply looked back at both of us, and shot us a rude look!

Then he stood up, walked with an amazing speed and agility to the front of his cart and pulled it up and over the hump, and then sat back down and s-l-o-w-l-y rolled out, never once looking back at the people who offered to help or the line of thousands who were waiting to get out.

I felt like I was being featured on some hidden camera comedy show. And now, as I write this, I am realizing just how much I over-analyze every little thing in my life. Man, I must be a joy to live with.

So, what would you do in the same situation?

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