I imagined it would be something like the DMV ...
... and it was in the sense that the lad answering my questions seemed a little bit impatient and a little bit surly, as I suppose one would be after years of fielding a steady stream of the same stupid questions from everyone who walks in the door.
So, there was that "Wow, he's looking at me like I'm a moron for even asking that question" moment, but all and all, the experience wasn't too painful. (I sometimes get that feeling at the post office, too — like, could I possibly be more of a pain in the ass to this person whose job it is to provide me with a service?)
I was in the office about five minutes, just enough time to survey the scene, get answers to a couple of stupid questions, get asked if I was from Micron and find out that it was pointless for me to file a claim for two weeks. (I got my last paycheck this week, then next week I'll get my severance; after that, I'm free to go on the dole.)
It might be fun to orchestrate some sort of social experiment/performance art prank next time I visit. Like setting up an interview with a counselor and seeing how long I can go quietly humming "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" on repeat until they call the authorities. Or showing up in full clown drag and loudly taking requests for balloon animals. Whatever.