metropolitan tourist last day

the last night of his sejour is given up to leisure. at dinner time he orders champagne with the meal, he snaps his fingers at the garcon and behaves in general like the boorish little peasant that he is. and since he has had a bellyful of all the good places he suggests now that i show him something more primitive. he would like to go to a very cheap place and order two or three girls at once. i steer him to the boulevard de la chapelle, warning him constantly to be careful of his pocketbook. around aubervilliers we go into a cheap dive and immediately we have got a flock of them on our hands. in a few minutes he is dancing with a naked wench, a huge blonde with wrinkles in her cheeks. i can see her ass reflected a dozen times in the mirrors of the room. the table is full of beer glasses, the mechanical piano is gasping and wheezing. the girls who are unoccupied are sitting placidly on the leather benches, caressing themselves peacefully. there is a sense of subdued pandemonium in the air, a feeling of repressed violence, as if the awaited explosion required the advent of some utterly minute detail, something microscopic and unpremeditated, completely unexpected

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This entry was posted by Tournapin.

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