Rama and Ruben.S at Warehouse

Line up:
Rama / NYC
Ruben.S / Warehouse

About our guest:
????Rama
Rama stood waiting for his baby boo outside the door of the women’s restroom in the Venice, Italy airport. He relaxed against the wall, elated to be on Italian soil, anticipating his Slovenian gig. His baby boo emerged and they began walking toward the exit when suddenly, he noticed her empty hands. His stomach dropped and his eyes grew wide with dread. “Where’s my second record bag?!?!” A look of horror came over her face “Oh no, Im so sorry - I left it on the plane!!!"

In a fraction of a second Rama felt his adrenaline surge a mile high, the blood rushing throughout his body. Without a word he turned around and sprinted in the direction they’d come from, one thing on his mind: Get the damn records. You’ll never find these records again. Get the records, before it’s too late.

Sprinting faster than he knew he was capable of, Rama yanked open the sliding doors that led to the terminals. He encountered a second set of doors, and began to panic upon realizing they were locked. Recalling the muscle memory from his karate days, he shored up his energy and delivered a jumping sidekick straight to the zip tied lock. The doors flew open and Rama charged ahead. He bolted toward the plane from which he had just disembarked, new passengers climbing the stairs. Suddenly, an Italian security official dove in his path, stopping him in his tracks. “What are you doing?!?!” he shouted, shocked and enraged. Jolted into sobriety, Rama began to realize the gravity of what he had just done. His sharp DJ ears picked up on the sound of an airport alarm going off in the distance behind him. He tried to explain - “I’m so sorry - I left a very important bag on the plane!” “Eet ees okayyy,” the italian security official explained, “your bag has been brought to theee Lost and Foundaaa.” Rama breathed an enormous sigh of relief and entered into a state of ecstasy, experiencing heaven on earth as complete and total peace permeated every cell of his being…

Until moments later, when he was being escorted back to the airport by a small crowd of Italian police. After interrogating him under harsh lights in a windowless room, the officers only seemed more baffled after he had finished his explanation. “Rrrecords? A bag full of rrrecords? You know, if you deed dis een your country, you would be sent to preeson for a long tiiime.” As they debated amongst themselves in Italian as to how to handle the situation, one of the officers turned to Rama to explain, “A-nothing like thees has ever happened beforrre.”

Would Rama spend his summer playing for Slovenian crowd and continuing the journey across Europe? Or rotting in an Italian prison? Well, as he said to himself awaiting his fate…what really matters is, I got my records back....

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