Flirting with Disaster

So there was a flirting workshop here at the U of C. The workshop was run by a north side sex shop called Early to Bed. It was called "Flirting for Nerds," and needless to say I attended.

The idea of flirting brings up an interesting question. On the rare weekends when I don't succeed in finding a sexual partner, is it because of how I flirt (procedure) or who I am (substance)? I'll excerpt a few lines from my real-life flirting and let you be the judge.

Her: So what are you studying?
Me: I'm a law student.
Her: Oh that must be interesting, how do you like it?
Me: I hate it. I am here by default, since I'd rather waste my parents' money than bus tables.
Her: Haha!
Me: ....

Her: So, what are your hobbies?
Me: Well, I used to enjoy reading. These days I find that I'd rather watch TV for hours every day.
Her: Oh... what is your favorite book?
Me: Catch-22. Have you read it?
Her: No.
Me: What are you, some kind of idiot?

Her: How are you doing?
Me: I'm okay, but I'd be even better if you agreed to have coffee with me sometime this week.
Her: Ummmmmmm...
Me: Think about your answer, because your tip is riding on it.

Me: Knock knock.
Her: Who's there?
Me: You caught your cold from.
Her: You caught your cold from who?
Me: You caught your cold from whom, bitch.

Me: Hey baby! You want to ride the James Rocket?
Her: That sounds lovely.
Me: Yeah, don't take my word for it, ask your mom!
Her: That joke wasn't very funny, but I'd still like to ride the James Rocket.
Me: Haha! Yeah baby!
Her: No, really.
Me: Really?
Her: Yeah.
Me: Ummm...
Her: Do you want to go to my place?
Me: Sure, but I mean... okay...
[later]
Me: I'm really sorry.
Her: No, it happens to everyone. You'll last longer next time.
Me: You think so?
Her: Well, we can at least have some fun finding out. Would you like to watch "Law & Order" in the meantime?
Me: That sounds great.
Her: What channel is it on?
Me: Don't end a sentence in a preposition, bitch.