I married his widow

"Perfect timing," the cabby said. "You’re just like Bill."

"Who?"

"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.

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