Good Old Dave

Morris walks out into the street and manages to get a taxi just
going by. He gets into the taxi, and the cabbie says, "Perfect
timing. You're just like Dave."

"Who?"

"Dave Aronson. There's a 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 everybody," says Morris.

"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 Morris.

"Because I married his widow."