“Passenger: “Who?”

Cabbie: “Frank Falstaff.  He’s a guy who did everything right all the time.  Like my coming along when you needed a cab?  Things  like that happened to Frank Falstaff every single time.” 

Passenger: “There are always a few clouds over everybody.”

Cabbie: “Not  Frank Falstaff. 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, 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.  Frank had a memory like a computer.  He remembered everybody’s birthday. He was a wine connoisseur, a food critic, a master of  social etiquette and THE statesman whenever it came to diplomacy.  And Frank could fix anything.  Not like me.  I change a fuse, and the whole goddam street blacks out.  But Frank Falstaff could do everything right.”

Passenger: “Wow, what a guy!”

Cabbie: ‘He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid every traffic jam. Not like me, I’m never fast enough in changing lanes or beating a stoplight. But Frank, he never made a mistake, and he really knew how to treat a woman. He always made her feel like a goddess. He would never argue or back-talk her, even if she was in the wrong.  He never left the toilet lid up, and his clothing? Always immaculate, right down to a shoe-shine you could see your face in …never a hair out of place, with Frank!  He was the perfect man, if there ever was one. No one could ever measure up to Frank Falstaff.” 

Passenger: “Incredible, how did you meet him?”

Cabbie: “I never actually met Frank.  He died and I married his wife.”