Dear ExPat Dude, Thanks for Leaving

You can’t miss the Dude’s wife. She’s got it and by it I mean a combination of plastic and animal tested beauty products filling out and shining up her slender yet curvy frame. She’s a model 20 years his junior.

I shared a plane with the dude. We shared an airport shuttle. We share a homeland, but that’s about it.

On the bus he told me that he was in finance and chose to leave. He said something like, “Things were going to shit in the United States. Money is fleeing. If you knew what I know you would leave too.”

I complimented Colombia, the country I had spent the past two week in and the woman’s homeland. The people were lovely and so was the landscape. I talked a bit about the Arhuaco Indians and how they were holding onto their culture. She smiled and seemed happy to hear such nice things about home. Her nice smile was in contrast to everything about her post mid-life crisis dude (although I’m note sure the ownership goes that direction). He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt and his skin is the color of cholesterol. As primped and perfect as she is, he’s a slob.

“I live in Panama now. No damn high taxes. The U.S. is going to shit. I live in a 10th story condo…” this isn’t an exact quote, but you get the idea. He rambled on about the adjectives describing his fabulous apartment and tax benefits before talking about the Panamanian people.

“Panamanians are lazy and ignorant idiots! A week doesn’t go by that I don’t have to pay a bribe.”

He showed interest in my work, which was nice, but he’s everything I write to prevent.

There’s more to a country and to life than building your bank account. There’s wealth other than dollars and cents, like friends and values and respect. Dude, If you simply measure the United States by your ability to make money and not pay taxes, thanks for leaving.

We don’t want you.

I’m guessing you will never find a place you like because you treat people like shit.

I feel sorry for your lovely wife, but I’m happy that you got the hell out of my country.