The Financial Advisor

Not a financial advisor, more a Wealth Manager, Craig Sheen (the line ‘my friends call me Charlie’ doesn’t go down too well with potential clients these days) is well pleased.  He’s just got off the phone with Mrs Muggins who signed up for a twenty-year savings plan when she’ll probably leave the country in three.  “Think for the long term…” Craig oozed, knowing full well he had her hooked when, on hearing a dog bark in the background (Result!), he reminded her that Schnookums was only going to get more expensive in her old age. Lucky for him, she didn’t do the maths.  Not only that but, after a bit of flattery followed by some nauseating emotional blackmail, the woman also gave him the names and telephone numbers of five of her best friends in the Springs who she thought might be interested in ‘undeniable opportunities’.  Jackpot!  Getting the client to lasso their mates made Craig’s life a lot easier, although he’s never been shy of copying a company’s email format and writing to a whole department saying he’d been recommended to contact them personally by one of their colleagues (who more often than not had actually hung up on him).  But needs must and if he’s going to get enough commission to buy that two-tone FJ Cruiser with Extreme alloy rims, he doesn’t care who he offends in the meantime.

It appears that whoever advises Craig on his wardrobe seems to have got things muddled up: his suit is shiny and his shoes are sharp.  A keen user of hair product, Craig’s locks somehow manage to match his suit and shoes – quite a feat – but then it does take up a large portion of his morning routine.  It is amazing that Craig’s head doesn’t actually start to sauté while he stands on the Beach Road enjoying a ciggie outside Future Star’s rather 80’s-looking office.  But Dubai suits him; this no exams, no qualifications set up is a perfect match for Craig’s CV.

On the weekend, Craig can be found in his apartment in the Marina, networking madly via online Modern Warfare on his X-Box or watching re-runs of Wall Street I and II (Gordon Gekko – what a legend).  He likes to imagine himself hobnobbing with the Hedgies at The Gramercy in the DIFC but is far more likely to be found in Double Decker with a luminous alcopop and a subtle t-shirt simply stating ‘Get it here’.   Banter! This usually attracts the wrong sort of lady who, although not put off by the eye-watering aftershave that radiates from his being, simply isn’t up to Craig’s standards.  There’s nothing that gets him more irate than being endlessly pestered by some moron who just won’t get the message that he is NOT interested.