It is nice to know that I still wield a voice that can put the fear of God into people.

The beginning of January, we had a split (ductless) HVAC system installed in our wee house.  And It has been a joy.  The house has been much cozier this winter, and we look forward to some much needed cooling when the summer months hit.

However, this kind of work requires a permit and an inspection.

We were told by the installers that we could expect to receive our permit in the mail in a couple of weeks and then we’d have to arrange the inspection.

Okey-dokey.

Comes February – no permit.  I call.  I get told, that their permit person will be going this week and we should get the permit early next week.

Okey-dokey.

No permit.  More calls.  No permit.  More calls.  (And each time, I am told verbatim the same exact thing – like I won’t remember and know that this is clearly a line of polished bullshit they give to everyone.)

It’s now March.  I am not happy.

I call, and use my THIS FAT OLD LADY IS NOT HAPPY voice.

It’s a quiet, low voice, full of lots of barely controlled rage.

I explain what has happened, step by step.  I explain that I have checked with the City website and there is no permit open for our address.  I do not threaten (explicitly), I just make it clear that this is their last chance.

And they brought the permit to our door.

(They left it in our mailbox – for some reason, they didn’t want to see me face-to-face.  I wonder why.)

When I worked in LA, my boss used to ask me if I was in a bad mood, and if so, would I like to call such-and-such person for him.  He recognized a valuable tool and how to use it.

And yup, I still have it.