I reeked of film noir

It's seven thirty and I just woke up from a dream where I was a supporting character in a Richard Widmark movie. Widmark was a bar owner who wore snap brim fedoras, and suits with padded shoulders and wide lapels.
The bar was just a front, he was into the rackets, all of them.
We were both vets and Widmark took a liking to me.
We were both wise guys, glib, quick with a smile and a comeback.
He thought I had potential, and so did I.
He thought I had what it takes, and so did I.
He thought I should work for him, and so did I.
A smile and a handshake were all it took and the next thing you knew I was running numbers and making pick-ups, a holstered roscoe under my jacket, a cigarette dangling from my lip.
I reeked of film noir.
And of course, then I woke up.