Cake For The Ladies and Water For Their Horses

We were eating a piece of chocolate cake after lunch today when a young woman from somewhere in northern Europe came over and asked SuperK and me if the cake was good.  To be clear she was sitting in the restaurant, drinking coffee with a friend at the time.  She wasn't in northern Europe.  This is probably self-evident from the context although my sentence construction might lead you to believe she had magically transported in from northern Europe to ask about the cake or that I was hearing her speak through the internet - which is a series of tubes - when she asked about our dessert.

"Very good," said SuperK.  "It has like some fudge in between the layers."
"It's not too dry?" the young woman asked. 
"No, very moist," said my wife.  
"But don't get too close to it or you might lose a finger," I said.

The young woman laughed politely.

I waved the waiter over and told him to deliver a piece of cake to their table which I would pay for.  It cost about 80 cents.  I guess I could have gotten them each a piece of cake for that price but I should give myself credit for the nice gesture.

Unfortunately for me, the cake was delivered at the same time as their sandwiches.  Either the waiter didn't tell them that we bought the cake or they were being real bitches about it.  Maybe they thought I was a creepy old man but my wife was right there with me.  SuperK wondered if the waiter let me pay for the cake and then charged them, too, which is REALLY paranoid.

This all goes back to my theory of doing something nice for someone else . . . 

If you don't get any credit what's the point?