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.