His were the same.
"Late night, Ace?" the Outreach Worker didn't even look up.
"Yeah, you look like shit, man," the Dance Instructor added.
"Is that smell coming from you?"
The Detective took off his sports coat. He held it up to the window to see the tears along the shoulder seams and the scuff marks on the arms. The corduroy was almost worn through.
"I liked that coat," he said as he slumped into the chair behind his desk, rousing his laptop from its sleep to show his LinkedIn profile still in edit-mode. "I don't know where to get corduroy in this town anymore."