To get to the point, I no longer have panic attacks when I see a spunky boy. I don't break out in a sweat trying to think of a chic pickup line. If I see a Delectable Daddy-O, I just walk on up and tell him so, whether I have any intention of taking it further or not. Of course, usually I do, but first things first. I must take him for a test drive.
Boys are strange creatures.
I have tried this many times, and only once was I turned down by a Norwegian boy who had vowed not to cheat on his girlfriend back home. Yes, very sweet and all, but it didn't help me much, so I went on my merry way and found another. It is strictly kissing, and maybe a couple of times it has developed into something more, if I desired it to be so. For the most part, it is my sport. I am the World Champion in the noncompetitive sport of PashFest.