I would have smiled and said do u want a hand .... then sent Daniel over to help whilst having a relax 
We would have happily done so but Mr. Happy who is probably in his fifties jumps into the car F ing and blinding like a goodun' and drives off.
So I pull up and we start pulling the hoses out and Mr. H reverses back to where he was but he couldn't leave it alone and comes up giving it: "What're you doing round here anyway, you've already F-ing driven round here once, who do you work for, what's your boss's phone number?"
So I tell him my boss is my wife and I'm not giving him her number (and I quoted Billy Connolly) so that "her ears can be sewers for his filthy language" and eventually I tell him I work for myself and that I'm cleaning his neighbours windows and then he wants to know why I've F'ing driven round already.
So I patiently explain (while grinning from ear to ear which winds him up even more) that I wanted to make sure I could get through with the trailer without blocking anybody's path
.
Mr Happy wants to know how I can prove I'm doing what I say I'm doing and Daniel (who's catching on quickly) says "what do you think these hoses and brushes are for?"
Mr H is still huffing and puffing and so I say loudly to Daniel - "lets get on with it we haven't got time to stand here exchanging pleasantries with this fine gentleman," (How I've kept my front teeth this long in life escapes my belief!
)
Mr H turns on his heel with what he thinks is a Parthian Shot of: "Well I'm not F- ing moving again!" to which I retort "Goodness me! If you're parents could see you now they'd be proud!"
To which he said lamely (I thought) "Yes they would!" and goes back to his car.
Then Daniel and I start working having a childishly "camp" loud conversation along the lines of:
"Oooh! Who'd have thought people living in a nice area like this could be so rude and inarticulate!"
"Yes we work the roughest council estates and don't hear language like that! I blame the parents!" etc.
Perhaps next week will be a little less eventful?