Finn is with some co-workers from the marketing department she barely knows, four women who invite the whole company out for drinks every Friday, never thinking anyone outside of their clique is going to take them up on it. But Finn knew it was the only invitation she was going to get, and she couldn’t just sit at home all night freaking out about her family and the goddamn Conqueror of Kakabeka. The marketing women are all day-to-night with their blazers slipped off to reveal sleeveless silk blouses, with fresh lipstick and powdered noses, their hair unpinned and falling around their jutting collarbones as they sip their martinis. Finn drinks her third double rum and Coke in her jeans and T-shirt, trying to remember what it was like to not work from home, to have to talk to colleagues in person and make a good impression. When she was still working at the office she had been intimidated by these marketing women and their sharp tongues and high cheekbones, their expensive shoes, their ability to hold their liquor. She tried to be like them, to exude effortless, sexy professionalism, to be brave and charming and confident. It didn’t work, of course. She was still just Finn, only in nicer clothes.

She has explained to the marketing women that she has to make an emergency trip home, and when she tells them where “home” is, they vow to get her nice and wasted so she can have something to remember fondly when she’s stuck in the middle of nowhere. Just from the pitying way they soften their eyes, Finn knows they are all Toronto born and bred, that they can’t even conceive of a place unreachable by public transit.

“Seriously, Fiona,” says one of the women, leaning across the table. It’s not until she touches Finn’s arm that Finn realizes she is talking to her. “Are you going to be okay up there?” Finn thinks the woman’s name might be Bianca, but the others just call her B.

“It’s northern Ontario, not North Korea,” one of the other women says.

“Shut up, Carrie,” B says. “It might as well be North Korea. Don’t they have weapons of mass destruction hidden somewhere in North Bay?”

“It’s actually Thunder Bay,” Finn says. “Completely different bay.” They all stare at her blankly. To them, “up north” means “cottage country,” and anything beyond that is like another planet.

“Well, here’s something that will cheer you up,” Carrie says, pulling out her phone. “Have you seen that Conqueror of Kakabeka video?”