Years ago, I used to live in a tower-block hall of residence at university. I was your typical shy geek, and I fancied a certain girl (who lived on the floor above) but never did anything about it. She was very, very nice.
One evening, there was a knock on the door.
I opened the door. She was standing there. She was obviously in a bit of a hurry, as she was slightly breathless and incompletely dressed. She had a bottle of wine and, I think, two glasses. Maybe she had to go to a party urgently.
"Have you got a corkscrew?"
I obligingly went to the (shared) kitchen, found a corkscrew, handed it to her and said "Here you are", then I closed the door and went back to bed.
I am flirt-proof.