On Being the Hottest Chick in the Room

Motivated by a massive guilt trip from a woman at church, today I volunteered to help cook and serve lunch at the Sharehouse, a homeless shelter in the area. About an hour into my shift the community service workers showed up. Some of them took their sentence more seriously than they took their jobs, but one good-looking young man (I'll flatter myself and say early twenties so I don't have to consider than he could have been younger than that) was especially lazy. He spent most of his time text messaging. Anyway he went straight for me when he showed up:
"What are you in for?" he asked.
"The love of my fellow man," I answered.
"Huh?"
Before he thought too hard about that one, I told him I was volunteering with other women from my church. They were the women who didn't smell like smoke (I didn't say that part). He didn't say what he was in for when I asked, which made me wonder what he did. Was he really embarrassed to say he was there for marijuana possession like everyone else, or did he do something else? Was it really bad or really stupid?
For some reason, when I moved to a new task, he just happened to want to do that task too. To be more accurate, he happened to want to sit and watch me do that task too. It was pretty funny. He wasn't in love with me or anything, he just wanted to be as close to the hottest chick in the room as possible (fragile ego). He worked harder to make me laugh than he worked to keep his relatively cushy community service gig.
Which boosted my own ego. When surrounded by old women and hobos and when there is no threat of commitment, I am the hottest chick in the room. Under the right circumstances, good-looking young men are willing to be painfully obvious about flirting with me.