Shakira “Dare (La La La)”
Random Shakira Story That Has Nothing To Do With This Song: Once upon a time, I got hit up for a job opening with a music management company. They were looking for someone digital and strategy and branding and social media, etc. Lo and behold, I’m really good at that stuff. They wanted me to come in for an interview for a position on a musical artist’s team. I come in. Meet with some of the team. Despite intentionally not telling me who the artist was, I could see from the 80 Shakira items in the office, it was for the Columbian Bad Ass. Cool. Damn shame I never heard an entire Shakira song in my life up to that point.
The interview goes well and they want me to sit down and talk to the manager. Shakira and her manager were going to be in LA. Funny enough, I was making a temporary move to LA. We were going to be in LA at the same damn time. I take this as a sign from God – I meant to be on Shakira’s team. NY to LA. Let’s do this.
Week later, in LA, at Shakira’s video shoot for the World Cup song and this is where my interview is going to take place. I’ve been to enough video shoots to know two things: they take forever and it’s always hurry up and wait. I get to location early and I wait. I find the manager and introduce myself. Cool. She’ll get to me. She needs to take care of Shakira. Cool. Not a problem. I understand. So I wait. And I wait. And I wait some more. It’s an interview, so I’m trying to be professional, but it’s a video shoot and there were two of my loves in attendance and abundance – craft services and women – which often turns me into a caveman. Be clear, it was a long day.
Finally after five hours, Shakira’s manager makes time for me and we sit down and chat under a tent for maybe five minutes. There were other people there. Things were swirling about. I never had her full attention. It was nuts. Shakira’s manager then says my name a couple of times in a row in that slick, throaty, womanly way women do sometimes and I was utterly confused. Was she low-key hitting on me? She got up, said something I can’t recall, but I do remember not knowing if we were wrapping up. She didn’t say goodbye, but she didn’t say to stay so we could continue the conversation. Come the fuck on! So I stayed. And stayed. And stayed. One of the record label people for Shakira was a former co-worker of mine and I told her what happened and asked her what should I do. She Kanye-shrugged me and told me to hang out as long as I could. So for five additional hours (for a total of 10 hours on set), one grilled cheese, three fruit platters, countless drinks, getting the phone number of the wrong Brazillian Samba dancer (wrong in the sense that the other one was prettier and had a way better body, compounded by the fact nothing ever happened with the one I did get), I chilled on set. Finally fed up, I went over to Shakira and Shakira’s manager and said goodbye, I was leaving. Maybe I was tired. Maybe I was distracted. Maybe I just didn’t give a shit, but Shakira and Shakira’s manager were in the middle of doing an interview and I walked in frame and said I was leaving. Yeah… Not cool. Not fresh.
I never heard back from Shakira (who I never spoke to but saw countlessly that day) or Shakira’s manager. I don’t know if it was video interview gaffe or my interview. Perhaps it was because they thought I was some weird creepy stalker dude who likes to hang out on location all day. Who knows? What does this have to do with Shakira’s Dare (La La La)? Absolutely nothing, but where else was I going to share that story?
Enjoy Spanish EDM.