Windows in Atlanta sit in humidity, pollen, and old wood. Fog between panes shows up after years of cooling season and damp winters. Bungalows in places like Grant Park and Kirkwood often still have wood sashes, or a vinyl insert shoved into a frame that was already tired. Newer houses outside the urban core are more likely to have a full vinyl unit that failed at the seal or the lock. A draft on an ice night and a sash you cannot open in June can be the same window at two moments.
Ask whether the job is an insert or a full-frame replacement. An insert leaves the old frame in the wall. That is fine when the sill is solid and a problem when the sill is soft from years of condensate and rain. Full-frame work shows you the rough opening, the flashing, and the rotten trim a street-facing bay has been hiding. Ask who puts the interior casing back and who wraps the outside so the next thunderstorm does not enter beside the new unit.
Intown noise is a real reason people call, and so is an upstairs that will not cool because the seals are gone. Ask for the efficiency figures on the whole unit. Do not let the talk turn into a promise about energy use. A sticker is a lab result. Your house is a canopy, a leaky attic, and a system that already runs hard. Ask who stands behind a leak at the flange. Many glass promises stop at the glass.
Count the units and name the rooms. One rotten bathroom window is not a whole-house order. A wall of original sashes on the front might be. If the paint is old and flaking, say so before anyone sands. If a limb or hail broke a single pane and the frame stayed square, say that too, because glass-only may be enough. If the frame racked when the tree hit, it is not enough. Hardware that has seized in the humidity is its own small repair.
Have the count, the city, and a note about fog, soft wood, or a broken unit. Windows in Atlanta are part of the tree-and-humidity story even when the glass looks fine. Call the number on this page.