I can remember walking into a store and looking around before going to Saturday matinee when I saw some steak knives in a carton and I ran my finder down the edge to see if they were sharp and decided they weren’t. I walked out of the store and noticed that blood was dripping from my finger. I didn't run back into the store or shout out that someone had hurt me because I knew even at 11 years of age there was one person responsible, even more I was not about to tell my parents what had happened because I didn't want them to think I was that stupid.
Should the store have noticed the sharp edges of the blades were turned up where any moron could cut themselves, sure but truth is there weren't that many morons when I was a kid over 70 years ago.