It was the fourth time the city inspector had been out, and it was wearing on Joshua's nerves. Every time the guy showed, there was another repair that needed to be made, urgently, and with a follow-up required. Joshua had purchased the Victorian mansion at auction, and it had been a mess. It had been chopped up into seven apartments and was suffering from being uninhabited for three years while in the city's dubious "care". Replacing windows, plumbing, electric, hot water tank, furnace, and roof had taken Joshua a long time and a lot more money. He managed to pick up the surrounding lots, emptied of their houses years ago, for only a dollar apiece. Now he was trying to become self-sufficient and was building himself a rather large garden, complete with chickens.
Mr. Giambro, Joshua hadn't learned the man's first name, paced around the enclosure intended to hold the city's maximum allowed five chickens. Joshua had built it himself and was rather proud. He realized it was part of the reason why he felt so annoyed right now; the inspector didn't "ooh" and "ahh" the way his friends did when shown his handiwork. Mr. Giambro instead made notes and made ticking sounds with his tongue. Joshua bit his lip and waited. The inspector looked out of place in the garden, wearing his wrinkled brown suit and vintage 1980s loafers, and pacing off the distance from the house to the enclosure. He paused, then took out a small measuring tape and circled the enclosure again, making more notes on height, length and width. Mr. Giambro peered up at the house. "This is a multi-family?"
Joshua took a breath. The inspector knew full well he had converted it back into a single. "No, I..."
"Oh, wait, yes, I see it here."
Joshua felt his jaw muscles straining.
"It appears as if this complies with 341-11 through 341-14. It will have to be approved by the City Clerk, of course."
"Of course." Joshua rubbed his face muscles and tried to loosen up.
The inspector walked back over to the enclosure and unlatched one of the doors. "Do you know why chicken coops have two doors?"
Joshua was surprised by the question. Was he supposed to prove his knowledge of chicken husbandry? Now? He took a gamble. "No, Mr. Giambro. I don't know why chicken coops have two doors. In case of fire?"
"Because," Mr. Giambro latched the door. "If they had four doors, they'd be chicken sedans." Joshua's jaw loosened enough to hang open. "The City Clerk should make a decision within two to three weeks." The inspector picked his way carefully out of Joshua's yard. "Have a nice day."
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