Fintan lay on his bed and stared at the walls. Other teenagers covered their walls with posters of their heroes and idols, mostly footballers or pop stars. Fintan was a little bit different. There were posters on his walls but Fintan did not idolise the same people as his peers. Posters of Charles Haughey, Bertie Ahern, and John Delaney adorned Fintan’s bedroom walls. These were the people he aspired to be like: Fintan wanted to be a Cute Hoor just like them.
For as long as he could remember, Fintan had the way of a Cute Hoor about him. He had an easy smile and a smooth wink. People knew to ask him for things and Fintan knew the people who would get things for him. He knew how to drive a bargain for himself and charge double at the other end. Fintan never missed a day of school, although he had not done a day of schoolwork in two years. As a member of every group from Student Council to litter wardens, his teachers were accustomed to Fintan always being on an errand of one kind or another. No questions were ever asked. At home, Fintan left his school books spread across the kitchen table and played video games until 5:59pm. He would return to his books and sit there with intense focus as his parents returned from work at 6pm, assuming Fintan had completed his homework and encouraging him to pack it away for the night and relax. Again, no questions were ever asked, not that Fintan ever found himself without a ready answer. It was 10pm and Fintan had spent the time since dinner relaxing with his parents before preparing for bed.
As much as the Cute Hoor lifestyle suited Fintan, he aspired to greater things. Fintan looked to Charles Haughey, knowing he could only dream of accusing a nation of living beyond their means while preparing an order of tailored shirts from Paris. From Haughey to Ahern, Fintan often thought about what he might do in a political career. Could he be a Minister for Transport without a Driver’s License? Could he be a Minister for Foreign Affairs without a passport? Fintan thought about these things and worried that he could never match sitting before a tribunal as a former Minister for Finance and insisting he never owned a bank account. The achievements of his predecessors forced Fintan to consider career options beyond politics, perhaps by starting off with an NGO, some charitable group, or maybe a sporting body. Fintan’s eyes moved across the room to his personal favourite, John Delaney. How much he wished he could emulate this man! If, someday, Fintan could sit in a meeting with FIFA and demand that Ireland should officially be the 33rd team in a 32 team tournament without so much as a hint of irony, he would have lived a full and happy life.
No matter what path he chose in life, Fintan knew he would be following in the footsteps of the truly great Cute Hoors that went before. As Fintan lay down to sleep, exhausted from a long day of not really doing anything, he dreamed of his future legacy among the greatest Cute Hoors: John Charles McQuaid, Eamon De Valera, Seán Lemass, Charles Haughey, Liam Lawlor, Ben Dunne, George Redmond, Bertie Ahern, Denis O’Brien, Michael Lowry, Ray Burke, Frank Flannery, Michael Fingleton, Seán Fitzpatrick, Willie McAteer, John Bowe, Denis Casey, David Drumm, Phil Hogan, Mick Wallace, any of the Healy-Raes, Paul Kiely, Paul Kelly, Pat Hickey, John Delaney…
And just like that, by counting all the Cute Hoors he could, Fintan was fast asleep.