She got no game

I got no game. There, I said it. As much as I like to fancy myself a smooth, with-it, self-assured female, the truth is that when a perfectly perfect opportunity for flirting drops itself in my lap (metaphorically and/or literally speaking), I choke.

Case in point: My mom and I had returned from a shopping jaunt to Home-Depot. Cute little stackable cube furniture--check. Tough girl and bargain huntress that I am, we decided that playing $10 for a cab was a much better deal than $25 or whatever they charge for delivery. We got to my apartment, and I carried the two fairly heavy boxes over to the elevator. A very nice looking young man was waiting by the elevator.

"Do you need some help there?" cute boy asks, all chivalrous-like.
"No, I think I'm OK. They're not that heavy, just a little bulky," replies the Game-less Wonder Girl.
"Are you sure?" So subtle.
"Yeah, I got it, thanks. I haven't been to the gym today, so this is a good workout!"
We rode up the elevator, and he got out on his floor, somewhat awkwardly as he was watching me struggle to keep my boxes from dropping.

My mom nearly slapped me upside the head when we got upstairs.
"What the hell is wrong with you!? Why wouldn't you let him help you?"
"Uh, because I'm a dumbass?" At least now I know why I'm still single.