Ultimate Masshole: Office Edition

This story of Massholism comes from a co-worker.

When her family first moved to Worcester from NYC in 2001, R's dad inherited a dilapidated Buick from her great aunt. It was a sad car, just on the verge of falling apart, but he figured it was would do until they got settled and he bought a new car. One day, R and her dad were in the supermarket when over the loudspeaker they hear "will the owner of a blue Buick, license plate YYY-ZZXX, come to the customer service counter."

It turns out that an elderly man had hit the Buick as it sat in the supermarket's lot, parked nicely between the lines of the parking spot. R's dad, a mellow guy, took it in stride. He wasn't angry he told the man, since it was a shitty old car and he was planning to sell the Buick for parts in the near future. The senior citizen, who had knocked one of his own headlights out when he ran into the Buick, was livid. He blamed R's dad for the way the Buick was parked.

Welcome to Massachusetts.