Streetgeezer knew his next destination would be Rainham as he had picked up Jim and 'Reen before. He waited for them in Soho Square next to a poster for "The Beverley Hillbillies" outside the Twentieth Century Fox building. He had made contact with his passengers in the Jota Jota Bar in Frith Street which, surprisingly, the controller had pronounced as "Hota Hota", even though they regularly mispronounce Beauchamp Place and Holborn. He had encountered Jim before and so when he got in the car and asked if he knew where Rainham was Streetgeezer politely mentioned that he had taken him there before. 'I ditn't ast if you'd taken me before, I ast if you knew where Rainham was.' The driver was shaken but not stirred. He told him he did and pulled into Sutton Row, then sneaked across Charing Cross Road in order to cut down behind Centre Point and head east along New Oxford Street. He could then go through Holborn, past St Paul's and through the city to the A13.

'You're going the wrong way.' Streetgeezer always hated to be told that and went to great pains to explain the infallible logic of his route; but they were not convinced.
'OK go your way but we are only paying the usual thirteen quid. It just seems a shame that you are wasting your petrol.' Streetgeezer was becoming as pissed off as a flat pint of Black Label. He hit the highway at Wapping, passing the foul and pestilent congregation of papers that is News International. At night it only takes about five minutes to get through Tower Hamlets (whereas apparently it took four hours to get through Kenneth Brannagh's Hamlet).
'I saw that film "Scent of a Woman" with that Al Pacino.' Jim recounted to Reen.
'Wot's it abaht?' She wined like a wino.
'Well Al Pacino's this blind guy an' 'e goes to New York wiv this young guy 'an they 'ave a good time.'
'So he's blind'?
'Yeah.'
'Sorta like Stevie Wonder?'
'Only in that Stevie Wonder is also blind.'
'No wot I meant was, that wot they're trying to say is that blind people are often more..... er...' 'Perceptive?' Jim offered the word while obviously preparing to devastate her argument.
'Yeah perceptive. They're saying the blind man could sense more of wot was happening.' Jim lost control.
'How the fuck do you know wot they're saying? You ain't seen the film.' He shouted. 'An that's typical of you. Fink you know it all dontcha? I seen the fucking film I'M tellin YOU abaht it, an yet you know more abaht it than me.......Well fuck you Reen, your out of order.'
'Well I only thought.....'
'Well don't think you ain't no good at it..... I seen the film....You ditn't .....end of story.'

Streetgeezer, in his role of self-proclaimed amateur social anthropologist had made quite a study of Pub Culture and the poor lost souls whose lives seem destined to revolve around the obeisance to strict conventions lest they be "Out of Order". The punishment for being out of order is the possibility of ostracism or being hit with a pool cue.

They sped past Canning Town and Barking with barely a whiff of the gut-churning stench that usually blows across the river from the "works" by the Blackwall Tunnel.

'You know Reg?' Jim asked.
'Yeah, nice bloke.'
'Remember I met him at that barbecue at that place in Hornchurch?' Jim asked Reen as they passed the Ford Factory at Dagenham.
'Yeah an' you saw that truck of sheep and I told you I could see they had an aura, a kind of halo of sadness over them cos they knew in their little 'earts they was gonna die; they had a look of 'aving been betrayed in their eyes.' Jim and Reen had obviously been hippies; probably well after it was necessary.
'Yeah that's wot I love abaht you Reen is yer understandin' and compassion.'
'Yeah I really felt for them sheep.' She cooed not knowing when to quit while ahead.
'Shut up abaht the fuckin sheep ......AS I was saying, I told Reg I needed to borrow a grand, he said he'd lend me a grand for six months if I repaid him eleven 'undred.'
'Well that's out of order.' Reen reasoned. 'You don't make money out of your mate.'
'Yeah bang out of order.' Part of the pub culture code had been breached. 'Well I tell ya wot. Not only won't he get the 'undred - I ain't gonna give him back the grand either.' They both agreed this was suitable punishment for usury in the drinking place.
'I've always hated him.' Reen concluded 'You know he ditn't offer to buy me a drink last time he came in the pub and I was on my own.'
'Bastard.' They were agreed.

Isle of Dogs