See the girl across the dance floor? The one that looks a little like a wallflower? That’s London.

She’s a nice girl.

London has always been a bit shy. Reserved, shall we say. She’s charming, smart, creative and caring, almost to a fault. But she really doesn’t like drawing attention to herself — not like some of the other characters in here. So she spends a lot of time just beyond the glare lights, not being noticed.

That guy over there? Calgary. Wears the same outfit every year: cowboy hat and denim shirt with shiny black boots. Tries to project an air of sturdy, self-made, independent, urban sophistication.

That girl over there? Montréal. She’s very chic and takes trips to Europe regularly. Her parents love good food, wine, culture and fashion. She’s not the least bit shy or inhibited.

That guy’s Toronto. Big dude. Drives his own set of wheels and goes pretty much wherever he wants. He loves the spotlight and grabs it every chance he gets.

Ottawa, over there, is the principal’s son. Nobody talks about it much, but everyone knows he gets a lot of preferential treatment. He sort of has a crush on Montréal.

Vancouver, next to him, is so cool and far out that, 50 years ago, he would have been a coffee-house beat poet. When the DJ plays I’m Too Sexy For My Shirt, he’ll be the first one on the dance floor. Just watch. He and his friend, Victoria, are often together.

Regina and Saskatoon have been together for years. High school sweethearts. Windsor has an edgy side to her; she’s showing off a couple of new tats. Halifax likes nothing better than a rollicking party at her house, most likely in the kitchen, when her parents are gone.

Anyway, as I was saying, London, over there, is a sensible girl. Traditional. She’s proud of her family history — her roots are aboriginal, but much of her recent family tree is white and middle class, though folks from other cultures and countries and faiths are marrying into the family.

I guess you could say she’s pretty average. So much so that marketing companies will check with her first before introducing new products or campaigns. Yeah, that’s it: she’s dependably average.

London makes a lot of decisions that are safe — or at least appear to be. The money she spends (carefully), the projects she chooses, the papers she writes — they’re dependably logical and nicely footnoted (her closest friends are academics, after all). But few people have ever seen her make a big bet, show her avant-garde side, make a passionate, declarative statement or let her imagination take flight like a loud, honking Canada goose at dusk.

Don’t get me wrong: London would like to stand out. She’d like to make an impression. She wouldn’t mind a bit if friends fawned over her, if only for a semester or so. But she’s at a loss as to how to make that happen. She certainly doesn’t want to appear forward or look goofy. And she’d shrink in horror at a misstep, especially on stage with everyone else was watching. So she plays it safe, nine-and-a-half times out of 10.

She mostly hopes to be like everyone else when she grows up. Happy. Well-adjusted. Successful. Lots of little kids at her feet, adoring her.

Oh, she’s had chances to strike out on her own; to show off a bit. But she often takes the path of least resistance (she really hates offending people) or caves in to the wishes of her parents or anyone else who might be paying the bills. Sometimes she’s even too timid to ask a lot of questions or make some demands, especially when it comes to money. Montréal has no problem with that.

London also largely lives in the moment. Forward planning and thinking about her career 20 or 30 years hence isn’t her strong suit. In fact, it makes her head hurt. She’s content to live in the here and now.

Next week, London will have to make a decision about how she’ll get around in the decades to come. She knows Toronto’s wheels are out of her league. She’s intrigued by Ottawa’s glow-in-the-dark sneakers. She envies Waterloo’s decision to order some designer platform pumps, even if the inventory is low and they won’t arrive for a while. She admires Surrey’s leather peep-toes and is in awe of Edmonton’s daring four-inch heels.

But London is, above all else, practical. Not so flashy or showy or so extroverted that she’d get noticed.

No, London will be practical.

She’ll almost certainly opt for a pair of sensible shoes. With maybe a buckle on the side if she’s feeling especially spunky.

Larry Cornies is a London-based journalist. cornies@gmail.com