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The poet Henri Michaux once wrote: "L'Orient pour s'orienter". But what East was he talking about? The one in the brothels of Saigon where the young legionnaire finds relaxation in the midst of opium vapours? Or was he talking about everything that lies to the east from where we are? Actually, my question has been in vain. But since "it is from answers that man dies", it was in Lithuania that I decided to take my uncertainties for a walk. Lithuania is still the East, at least part of what was once called Eastern Poland. Why this destination precisely? The clever ones will not wait for explanations and will already have a smile on their faces, like all those who learn that they are going to a country whose name ends in "ie" (Serbia, Romania, Bulgaria, Hungary, Russia, Syldavia, be careful there is a trap): Lithuanian women.

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In search of the lost virility of the French

And they would be right, by the way. Isn't the mystery of this attraction simply explained by the fact that under these skies, whether they are Baltic, Slavic or Magyar, the Frenchmen we are find their lost virility?

 

Because you only feel truly male when women feel truly female. This is the case for Lithuanian women, perhaps more so than any other nationality. This necessary definition of the role of each one, this game of "you are therefore I am" corresponds little to the modern spirit. It doesn't matter.

 

Lithuanian women, girls from the East like any other?

It would be very difficult for me to establish a sociology of Eastern women, country by country, region by region. Nevertheless, there are certain recurrences, at least on the physical level: extreme preparation, whatever the time of day or the context, smooth hair of endless length, and especially the fragrance, powerful enough to awaken your languid senses but subtle enough not to be stubborn.

 

Every Lithuanian woman you meet on the street literally leads you by the nose. You are ready to stay in its wake and drown in its scents, until another one takes over and leads you in the opposite direction. An infinitely pleasant leisure activity but very bad for the neck!

 

The first evening in Vilnius announced all the others. You should always be wary of first impressions. The Romans cancelled conquests if the omens were not favourable to them and I myself sometimes scan the sky to make sure that the birds would fly. But it was getting late and all the birds were already in bed.

 

To read:

Order the seminar "the mechanics of sex friends"

The coup de deux

That evening, two young women broke into the club where I was. They headed straight for one of the two pole dance bars and then began to swirl and laugh, but with a closed laugh that invited no one to join him. One would have thought that their saphic convolutions would soon reveal some divinity.

 

That's a nay-say-say-say-say-say-say-say-say-say-say-say-say!

It was a group of Frenchmen who arrived and whose clothing was painful to see: too big a shirt, a shoulder bag and summer sneakers. All that was needed was a hit from Magic System to make the evening a success. But the DJ had more taste, inviting these two acrobats in black dresses to get even more active. Their gestures soon had an effect on those whom my lips were reluctant to name my compatriots. Like Ulysses' companions, transformed into pigs by Circé, they reminded me that the man's worst enemy is not the woman but the man himself.

 

Sitting next to me, I did everything I could to unsubscribe from the idolatrous crowd and then voluntarily turned my back on this enchanting spectacle. Even when you don't have much, you still keep your pride. And to use the title of a book by Albert Cossery, you can be a beggar and proud.

 

However, these aggressors did not spare their efforts. My face was whipped several times by their newly detached hair. I was even heckled by a few pelvic shots during some pirouettes a little too pronounced. I was dying to turn around but I held on. I thought of "this young Lacedonian man, who had stolen a fox under his chlamydia, let himself be chewed up without a single cry, thus preferring death to opprobrium..." (Ivan Tourgueniev). And then I fought with all my strength with my heroes against theirs.

 

 

One of these Lithuanian women (girls of joy?) came to talk to a friend and invited him outside to smoke. One of the first questions she will ask him will be about his salary... His playmate made the same proposal to me and I indicated that I would gladly accompany him but without smoking (I don't have the worldly cigarette). She seemed to be hurt by my answer. I asked him

 

 

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