I may like this one simply because it’s using my name.
Ok, cute joke too.
Bill walks out into the street and manages to get a taxi just as it comes driving by.
He gets into the taxi, and the driver says, “Perfect timing. You’re just like Dave.”
“Dave Smith. He’s this guy who did everything right. Like my coming along when you needed a cab. It would have happened like that to Dave.”
“There are always a few clouds over everyone,” says Bill.
“Not Dave. 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.”
“He was something, huh?”
“He 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 I black out the whole neighborhood.”
“No wonder you remember him.”
“Well, I never actually met Dave.”
“Then how do you know so much about him?” asks Bill.
“I married his widow.”