I open the door, our cranky old manager is standing there
"You need to go downstairs and clean up your oil spill right now"
(Backstory: there's a large oil spill in our parking garage)
"I'm sorry but it's not ours"
"It's leading from your cars"
"No, it's really not and it's not ours"
"It is and you need to clean it up"
"Look, I saw that oil spill when I was leaving for work this morning, I don't know where it came from but we didn't do it."
"It leads away from the white car, it came from that car."
"The white car?"
"The white car doesn't belong to us, it belongs to our friend who just got here not ten minutes ago."
"I know, I saw him drive up. It's coming from his car."
"But he just got here"
"And that spill has been there since at least early this morning."
"Well then it can't be from that car."
"It's your spill and you need to clean it up."
"LOOK, IT IS NOT OUR SPILL. I'M NOT CLEANING IT UP AND I AM SICK AND TIRED OF YOU BLAMING US FOR THINGS THAT WE DIDN'T DO!!!"
"Well...Mark (this is the landlord) knows about it and you'll be receiving a bill."
Chris steps in, "Fine, you prove it came from our car and we'll pay to clean it up."
"Don't talk shit to me BOY"
At this point pretty much it's chaos. Chris starts yelling at him and the manager is walking away (actually he had started walking away when he told me we would get a bill for the clean up). I had to pull Chris back into the apartment. The managers fat wife starts screaming something at him and he's yelling something at her, probably about the situation.
We all fume for a while.
Then we realize we should probably cover our asses so we take the digital camera and photograph all of the oil spill and our cars and our parking spots, we also video the trail.
Later that night Chris sees our neighbors who have assigned spots next to ours and asks if it looks like the oil spill came from our car. They say no, it looks like it's coming from the spot where the guy is often working on his car. We realize he's right. After some thought we realize what most likely happened. The guy was changing his oil, it was dripping and he was taking it over to the dumpster only to discover the dumpster wasn't there due to trash day. He starts to head upstairs to take it to his apartment (there's oil splashed on the steps) and realizes he isn't going to make it so he turns around and dumps the remainder on the grass (way to not listen to the epa). It didn't take much to figure that out. But NOOOOOOO, we were the culprits b/c we're just punk kids. Just like every box that is thrown away must belong to us and we can't use the dumpster we pay rent to be able to use! Or just like because a friend leaves our house early in the morning she is DEFINATELY living there and not, oh I don't know, sleeping in our living room for one night because she had a bit too much to drink and we don't want her driving while intoxicated. Needless to say we are looking for new apartments and hope to be moved out by August.