A man walked out into the street and managed to get a taxi just going by, what luck, he thought, as he slid into the cab.
“Perfect timing,” the cabby said. “You’re just like Bill.”
“Who?” asked the man.
“Bill Smith. There’s a guy who did everything right,” the cabby said.
“Like my coming along when you needed a cab, it would have happened like that to Bill every time.”
“Nah,” the man said to the cabby. “There are always a few clouds over everybody.”
“Not Bill,” said the cabby.
“He was a terrific athlete, he could have gone on the pro tour in tennis.
He could golf with the pros, he sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star.”
“Bill was really something, huh?”
“Oh, yeah,” continued the cabby.
“Bill had a memory like a trap. Could remember everybody’s birthday, he knew all about wine,
which fork to eat with, he could fix anything.
“Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole neighborhood blacks out.”
“No wonder you remember him,” the man said.
“Well, I never actually met Bill,” said the cabby.
“Then how in the world do you know so much about him?”
“I married his widow,” replied the cabby.
