“Hey, cool,” whispers Quinta and plops into her chair like an accordion folding back into a square.

“I’m wondering,” JJ begins as he approaches Quarta, “it’s something that your people like to ask, and it goes something like this.” JJ looks down at Quarta’s melon breasts and whispers, “Where you from, eh?”

Quarta giggles. She recognizes the common question that only her own pose. She recognizes and feels a sense of home. A place far into the North that she hasn’t placed her feet onto in decades.

“I’m from Iqaluit,” she says. “I was born and raised there but I haven’t been back in a very long time. What about you?” Quarta knows to keep his attention. She keeps her eyes locked on JJ as she draws him into the chair next to her with her chin.

“So, you’re a Native woman.” JJ phrases it more as a statement than a question. “I’ve never been with one of those.” His eyes spark with curiosity. “Tell me about that. What’s it like to live up there?”

“Oh, it’s not as glamorous as the movies make it out to be. There’s a lot of bad stuff in the North, but I can still miss it some days.” Quarta takes a big swig from her glass of wine. These white guys, she thinks. These white guys and all their dumb questions. I already know what the next question will be. She takes a second swig of wine. She gives JJ her most inviting smile and calmly begins to count inside her head. Amid the numbers, the theme music for the Jeopardy final question begins to play.

“Did you ever eat raw meat?”

BINGO! thinks Quarta. He’s right on target!

JJ can’t stop himself from asking that common question. The question that only Inuit are asked in Canada. The question that signals their inbred lack of civilization. The question whose answer confirms what all white people think. After all, if you eat raw meat, you must be backward. Unless, of course, it is sushi.

“Yes,” smiles Quarta. She moves her hand into JJ’s crotch and whispers into his ear, “If I can chew and swallow that stuff, Baby, I can chew and swallow anything.”

JJ nods, his eyes staying locked onto hers. He notices her heavy false eyelashes. He notices her perfectly moulded teeth with a stain of cheap lipstick on them. He notices her wide, flat tongue. The tongue that looks like all of her. Wide, flat and dull. He wasn’t looking for brains and he won’t have to worry about that with this one. She would be a compliant companion. A no-muss-no-fuss kind of woman. Her type know their place and require very little training. And in return you had all your wildest dreams come true.