What ever happened to personal responsibility?

I was in Vancouver, Wash., last week to attend my youngest brother’s graduation and while in Vancouver I was nearly hit by a car in a parking lot.

Not once, but twice I nearly met my maker.

I was walking into Party City to pick up balloons for my brother’s graduation party before the first incident.

I was entering a marked crosswalk.

I looked both ways just as my parents instructed me to when I was a youngster.

I attempted to proceed with caution before a driver in a white sedan was cruising well over the posted speed limit was bearing down on me.

He looked down at his cellphone before looking up to see me in the intersection. He slammed on the breaks, screeching to a halt. He didn’t hit me, but he was close.

I brushed off the incident and continued make my way into the store to pick up my brother’s balloons.

As I approached the entrance, the man in his car began yelling at me.

Apparently it was my fault he almost hit me because I was obeying the traffic laws and he wasn’t. I didn’t realize his urge to send a text while driving superseded my right to walk across the intersection lawfully.

Any ways, I entered the store, picked up the balloons and ushered them back to my mother’s minivan.

When I reached the vehicle, I opened the sliding-side door before encountering my second crazed driver of the morning.

I looked up to see a Jeep come within inches of knocking me into the back of the minivan.

Puzzled and concerned, I looked at the driver.

Maybe it was because I was almost apart of an automobile sandwich, but I looked at the driver with confusion.

The driver proceeded to tell me the space next to mine was chosen because of it’s proximity to the pet store and the golf store.

I calmly looked around at the vacant parking lot pondering the driver’s response before ultimately shutting the sliding door of the van and getting behind the wheel.

It was then I realized neither the driver at the crosswalk nor the one who nearly smashed me offered an apology.

I didn’t get a “Sorry, I didn’t see you there” or a “That was my fault.”

I got nothing.

I don’t know which is more disheartening: The fact I didn’t get an apology from either driver for nearly ruining my vacation or that I didn’t expect an apology.

Sometimes I wonder what social niceties we have sacrificed for the sake of selfishness.

Derrick Pacheco is the Columbia Basin Herald sports editor. The night he returns the Mariners win, giving us hope the Moses Lake Pirates will find the same luck.