You’re 30 years old and you live in a sprawling metropolis not because you want to but because you have to. The job is there, which is the reason why you can afford to eat three square meals a day. But you’re suffocated by the heat, the humongous population, the putrid smell, the intoxicating traffic. You tire of the boss who keeps on harassing your ass, demanding this and that, and the girlfriend who keeps on demanding more of your time which, of course, you don’t own. You are sickened by the claustrophobic, cell-like, rat-hole that you call a ‘pad’ which you share with an a--hole that you can’t get rid of because he shares the bill, and the nosy landlady who, of course, cannot keep her nose to herself who runs the rat- hole like it was the Buckingham Palace and should be beyond dirt, as if!