Today John took me to City Hall in Fort Collins. He sat in the car while I went inside and walked up to the assessor's window. I gave them a winning smile and said, "Hi. I'm a protestor." The guy at the window asked if I was there to protest the amount of my assessment. He looked amused by my wording, not annoyed, so I felt good. He signed me in and I had a seat, expecting to wait. Five minutes later I was ushered into the inner sanctum.
I had written a letter, made copies of our homeowners' documentation and the MLS sheet from the original sale of the home. I was so organized. Did she want that stuff? Not really, although she was happy to see that I had it, she said, "... in case we need it. Let's just talk first."
It took about fifteen minutes before I was out of there. The house was reassessed at the purchase value, and we'll not only save money on our property taxes next year, but in about a month we'll be getting an overpayment check back from them for excessive property taxes already paid. I sure wish I knew how much that will be.
I'm continually surprised by how things work here in the Loveland area. I went in expecting an argument. I was anticipating a long wait, irritation, and at best to be told that they'd get back to me in a few weeks. If I haven't mentioned this before, I've never been so happy living anywhere else. This is the life—the good life.