Who's Responsible for Me?

On the morning of December 22nd, three days before Christmas, raindrops broke on my stooping head as I trudged briskly for my car. Once inside, just before I started the engine and shuttled myself to work, I saw something pinned underneath my windshield wiper. For once, it wasn't an advertisement. But I wish it had been. Showing through the plastic bag were the words, "I hit your car."
Further inspection of the note and my car revealed that a man named Scott had backed into me, busting my right rear taillight. I drove to work before calling the number Scott left on the paper sealed inside the plastic bag.
Scott, to his credit, was apologetic and eager to help. He wanted, however, to just buy me the necessary parts without going through insurance. I told him I wanted to turn it in. I had never been in an accident, but I thought this was the best policy.
To shorten the narrative, a detailed estimate revealed damages totalling $681. Slightly more than the cost of a taillight. I thought Scott would be angered, or at least frustrated, when I called to tell him the total. Scott never complained. I offered to get a second opinion, and he said, "No, if they say the rear panel's messed up, then I'm sure it is."
Scott filed the claim and I got everything taken care of without any problems.
I thanked him for being so helpful (Apparently, before he put the plastic bag-protected note on my car, he went door to door in my apartment complex to try and find the owner of the blue Eclipse with the Ohio State magnet on the back). And Scott said, "Hey, I would want somebody to do the same for me." And when I thanked him one last time, he said, "No problem. It's my pleasure."
"My pleasure"? Really? How exceptional...and absurd.

Some time after that minor incident in December, my roommate was involved in a much more serious traffic accident. While waiting to turn left, Chris (the roommate) was rear-ended by a woman who had been fishing her cell phone off the floor of her car. She was traveling roughly 45 miles per hour. Chris saw her at the last second and he hit his gas to decrease the impact for him and his passenger. The rear-ending car also tried to swerve, which only drove him into oncoming traffic--right into the path of an SUV. An SUV which was driven by a woman with no license and no insurance, mind you.
Chris's car was totaled and he had to go to the Emergency Room for sprained wrists and some significant contusions. Weeks later, the effects of the accident have not completely disappeared.
Unfortunately for Chris, Scott wasn't driving either of these vehicles. Instead, both women have tried to blame Chris for the accident. The rear-ender claimed Chris's headlights weren't on (nevermind the fact that pictures taken immediately afterward show them being on, and nevermind that she was coming from behind him and, had she been driving responsibly, his brake lights should have told her to slow the crap down), and the uninsured, unlicensed SUV driver claimed he turned in front of her.
So Chris has had to fight with the local police, who initially took the rear-ender's statement without taking his, and then cited him. He has had to negotiate with his insurance company. He sought legal consultation, and he will be expected to resolve this in court.
And all he did was try to turn left.
I'm sure Chris would love to have only gotten a smashed taillight, and I know he'd love it if either of the other drivers were willing to take responsibility for their mistakes. Then, instead of blaming him, they would apologize. And they'd offer to take care of the damage they caused. In fact, it would be "their pleasure" to do so.
But in our society, that doesn't happen. Unless you're lucky, like me, and you bump into (or get bumped into by) one of those rare Scott's out there. Those who know what it means to take responsibility for their actions, those who understand consequences and are even willing to seek them out when they know it's the right thing to do.
But all this left me wondering "What would I have done?" I wouldn't have claimed Chris's headlights weren't on, and I wouldn't have lied to the police (at least not in this stage of my life). But if I were Scott, would I have gone door to door in the rain looking for the owner of the damaged car? Would I have requested a plastic baggie from someone living in those apartments so I could scrawl my confession and cell phone number on a piece of paper that would be protected from the elements?
Or would I have written something sloppily, hoping and praying the rain would wash my number away? Would I have written anything at all, or just looked around to see if anyone noticed?
To answer all these questions, all I can say is "I don't know." I guess I don't know the depth of my integrity. I know it's easy to adopt the "well, if no one saw me do it..." mentality. It would also be easy to knock on a door, maybe two, and say, "Well, hey, I tried."
My insurance company told me I was lucky Scott left a note. Most people don't, they said.
Most people don't. But would I?
I think so. Now.

And maybe if the roles are ever reversed (God forbid), and someone thanks me for accepting my consequences, I can say, "Don't thank me. Thank Scott."
But I'm pretty certain I'll never say it's my pleasure. I still think that's absurd.

-Thanks for Reading