The Perfect Man
A man walks out to the street and catches a taxi just going by. He gets into the taxi, and the cabbie says, "Perfect timing. You're just like Frank."
Passenger: "Who?"
Cabbie: "Frank Feldman... he's a guy who did everything right all the time. Like my coming along exactly when you needed a cab; things happened like that to Frank Feldman every single time."
Passenger: "There are always a few clouds over everybody."
Cabbie: "Not Frank. He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand Slam at tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone, and danced like a Broadway star. And you should have heard him play the piano! He was an amazing guy."
Passenger: "Sounds like he was somebody really special."
Cabbie: "'Oh heck there's more.' He had a memory like a computer. He remembered everybody's birthday and anniversary too. He knew all about wine, could order from a French menu, and which fork to eat it with. And he could fix anything. Not like me, I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out. But Frank Feldman, he could do everything right."
Passenger: "Wow, some guy then."
Cabbie: "He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid traffic jams. Not like me, I always seem to get stuck in them, or take the wrong route. But Frank, he never made mistakes, and he really knew how to treat a woman and make them feel good. He would never argue back, even if she were in the wrong; and his clothing was always immaculate, shoe highly polished too. He was the perfect man! I never knew him to make a mistake! No one could ever measure up to Frank Feldman."
Passenger: "Wow, where did you meet him?"
Cabbie: "Well... I never actually met Frank himself - I married his widow.