One particular night, I got a knock on the door from a freshman named Jamie. Jamie was a blonde, bright teethed, good looking sister to my brother's roommate. The knock was urgent. I answered hesitantly. To my surprise Jamie wanted me to go with her to a BYU dance. I wasn't too keen on the idea, but my mother would be happy I was sure. My mother always wanted me to have the “freshman experience.” So I agreed to attend with Jamie.
When we arrived at the dance, I found out that the dance was held by the Black Student Union (BSU) of BYU. I instantly felt comfortable, because dancing to hip hop was always easy and fun for me. I turned to Jamie and noticed she wasn't there beside me. I saw her across the room, swarmed by approximately 11 good looking guys. Feeling ditched, I stood by the wall, occasionally pulling out my cellphone to look busy.
I looked up. Across the room was the most strange looking guy I had seen at BYU. He didn't have blonde hair, he didn't have blue eyes, and he didn't have a BYU t-shirt on. There he was-shaved head, brick-red pants, and the most gorgeous face. His deep brown eyes and chiseled jaw were so attractive that I had to gawk at such masculine figure. He was standing like a roman statue of beauty, completely unlike the average guy at BYU. Of course I took notice that there was nobody around him. No girl at his arm. Just him-a lovely wall flower. I had an overwhelming feeling that if I just ignored him, I would never see him again. Something pushed me to talk to him. I didn't know what to do. Thankfully I noticed my purse next to his feet. I don't remember it jumping over there, but now I had an excuse. So, I naturally went and pulled something out of my purse. That seemed natural enough. Then with unusual courage I walked toward to him. I opened my mouth and said, “Can I ask you a question?”
Looking shocked, he answered with a strange, foreign accent, “Sure” (Which sounded to me “Shuare”). I continued, “What's your name?” A big grin appeared on his face. “Ramsey.” The music was too loud. “What?” He raised his voice. “Ramsey!” I could not understand his name. His accent was too thick. It sounded like “Romsey.” And yet I was intrigued. It wasn't everyday that I met a strangely handsome man with a foreign accent and a strange name. I asked him if he would like to dance with me.
On the dance floor, he started dancing very strange! He was performing some weird modern dance. While I was shaking to hip hop music, he was doing weird aerial flips, and snapping his fingers while moving his head. Embarrassed, I decided to grab his hand and take him out to the corridor. I told him I wanted to talk and get to know him better. I have no idea what we said to each other, but before I had the chance to talk his head off, Jamie rushed me and explained that she and the flock of guys were going to the canyon and that if I wanted a ride home, I had to go that instant. Scared I would never see this mysterious Ramsey again, I did one of the most bold acts of my life: I asked for his phone number. Shocked but willing, he gave it to me. That was the beginning of our eternity.