A man in a filthy macintosh scurries from lamp post to lamp post, oblivious to his complete and utter visibility on this sunny spring day. Children giggle and point as they pass the poor fellow hiding behind a post box, yet he remains convinced he is invisible to everyone around him.

Suddenly, the man stops at the front door to a local eatery. He reaches into the folds of his mac and finds his cache of stolen goods. He glances first left then right. Although people are everywhere, he feels that he is well hidden. A sinister grin appears on his face and he dashes into the front door.

There is a clatter of cutlery and glass, exclamations of surprise, and before the local constabulary can arrive, he appears out the front door again, panting heavily. He cackles gleefully to the heavens and runs off.

Inside the eatery, there is mayhem.

Frustrated patrons and staff mill about. They are confused, impatient, in need.

Before them, two doors stand in apparent conflict.

WOMen.

Women.

Who will save them now?