The Perfect Man

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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 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 Feldman.  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 really something special.”
 
Cabbie: “There’s more.  He had a memory like a computer.  He remembered everybody’s birthday.  He knew all about wine, which foods to order and which fork to eat them with.  He could fix anything.  Not like me.  I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out.  But Frank Feldman could do everything right.”
 
Passenger: “Wow, what a guy!”
 
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.  But Frank, he never made a mistake, and he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good.  He would never answer her back even if she was in the wrong; and his clothing was always immaculate, shoes highly polished too.  He was the perfect man! He never made a mistake.  No one could ever measure up to Frank Feldman.”
 
Passenger: “How did you meet him?”
 
Cabbie: “I never actually met Frank.  He died and I married his wife.”

 

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