"I... I brought it..." Bill said, his voice trembling as he pulled a box of matches from his pocket.
'It was actually just a box of matches!'
'What era is this?! Still using matches? This is just embarrassing, basically announcing we're broke.'
Old Man Goodman tossed the matches aside in disgust. He tucked a cigarette behind his ear and handed one to Bill. "You take one too. Gotta look the part."
"Oh, okay." Bill, who always did as Old Man Goodman said, took the cigarette and hung it on his ear.
The two of them walked in, putting on an air of importance.
To their surprise, the doorman didn't stop them. Instead, he greeted them politely.
"Welcome."
The two men froze for a moment before sheepishly entering the bar.
The atmosphere inside could only be described as thick with smoke and debauchery. The two old men immediately felt out of place and grew embarrassed.
