A man walks out of Oxford Circus tube station in London during a downpour and manages to get a taxi. The cabbie says, “Perfect timing. You’re just like Sheldon.”

“Who?”

“Sheldon Cohen. There’s a guy who did everything right. Like my cab being vacant during a rainstorm. It would have happened like that for Sheldon every single time.”

“Well, no one is perfect. There are always a few clouds over everybody,” stated the passenger.

“Not Sheldon,” said the cabbie. “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. Handsome and sophisticated, more than Cary Grant. He had a better body than Arnold in his prime.” “Somehow Sheldon just knew exactly how to make women happy,” the cabbie continued. “He could remember everybody’s birthday. He knew all about wine. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole neighbourhood blacks out.”

“Wow, incredible, no wonder you remember him!” said the passenger.

“Well, I never actually met Sheldon,” admitted the cabbie.

“Then how do you know so much about him?” asked the passenger.

“After he died, I married his wife.”