Mojo? What's that?

Listening to: 'Let's Dance To Joy Division' by The Wombats [The Wombats Proudly Present: A Guide to Love, Loss and Desperation]

Scene I: Buying a doughnut at the Krispy Kreme outlet at Victoria station -

Him: "Hello, how are you today?"
Me: "Fine thanks, and you?"
Him: "Oh I'm fine, better now that you're here!" (...CRINGE!!!)
Me: "Hehe...so how much is a doughnut?"
Him: "That'll be £1.20 and a smile, please"
Me: [smiling on the outside, cracking up on the inside]

Scene II: Checking out clothes (yeah right...) at the Abercrombie & Fitch store -

Him: "Hi, how are you doing?"
Me: "I'm fine, thanks" [smiling on the outside, drooling on the inside]

I am such a muppet. A smart girl would've told the Krispy Kreme guy that she'd give him a smile if he gave her a free doughnut. What did I do? I paid him £1.20 and gave him a smile (because I couldn't keep a straight face). A smart girl would've told the very friendly (and drop-dead gorgeous) A&F shop assistant that she was looking for a pair of jeans and needed some help with the various styles. What did I do? I grinned like a complete jackass and giggled my way out of the store. A smart girl would've thought nothing of these two incidents. But in my case, the following thoughts were running through my mind -

"OMG did I just get hit on?!?!"
"OMG he's gorgeous. Turn away so he can't see your face!"

What is wrong with me? Why can I not muster up the courage to talk to fit guys? Sigh. I'm not just a muppet; I am a mojo-less muppet. Sigh and yes, I do go to the A&F store when I'm in London, just to check out the guys. There, I said it.