The city inspection was… enlightening. After all my panicking over details, the inspector was completely relaxed and complimented the work we’d done. “A lot of these places are terrifying. This is a lot better than I expected,” he said after we’d completed the first floor.
When I asked about the criteria for passing, he basically indicated we weren’t anywhere near passing, saying, “Man, everyone fails. New buildings fail. They think they have paint on the walls but it’s just primer,” and so on. He probably checked even more boxes than the first inspection. Some of them weren’t even accurate, but it seems a moot point for now based on the rest of our conversation.
By the end of our half hour together, I gathered that a Certificate of Occupancy was essentially bullshit for an owner/occupant. “Man, this is your house. YOUR HOUSE. All I got is a pen and clipboard. I ain’t puttin’ anyone out on the street,” he told me when I asked if we were clear to move in. “I’m gonna mark it as occupied, and that’ll give you 2 years on this inspection to fix the issues.” When he looked at the carriage house he said “I’m gonna say I couldn’t get in there. You don’t wanna see all the things I’d write if I got in there, and you’d get all angry with me. Just do what you gotta do and I’ll just note things about the outside.”
Passing thru the basement, he saw the new boiler system. “Oh man, that’s like Chinese to me. You have to have a permit for that one.” I assured him I did and he was just excited about it then. “I’m taking a picture for the other guys in the office. I’ve never actually seen one of these installed. That’s amazing.”
When he handed me the final report, he said “You already closed? Well I don’t know why you even need this then. Good luck to you,” and off he went. That basically summed up the whole experience: the mountain was actually a molehill, and I’ve been battling windmills. Time to clean up, pack our bags, and get into Detroit.