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.