At the unemployment office Mac finds it hard to believe (once he's gotten to the woman's desk and met all preparatory form-filling requirements) how long it will take. Her look reminds him of something that's been sprayed after sanding. Not a negative thing, actually.
"But I told you when it was the last time I worked."
"Yes but you are to my knowledge just now informing us of your status. These forms have to be examined, verified and approved. It will be a matter of some weeks." Final.
He looks around at the offices as he leaves, arm balanced against a bruised hip. He remembers having bowled here; now it's a department store of governmental offices.