I'm the guy behind the milk.

I posted this on CL about a week ago, but felt it was better suited to here. In fgact, this is what made me want to start the bloggingness. It's nice to get home from work and vent. Especially to people who don't have to listen.

I'm the guy behind the milk. Also known as the hand that puts the milk, yogurt, butter and cottage cheese on the shelf. I am actually a real person. I have a life (kind of), friends, and hobbies. I spend a few hours of my workday behind various dairy products, making sure the shelves are full and that you can get that pint of nonfat cottage cheese you desperately need for survival.
Here are some things you should know:
-There is an arm attached to the gloved hand, attached to that there is a body, legs, head, etc.
-I am not some kind of mythical beast hand that magically appears at the grocery store for the sole purpose of aiding in the continuation of this strange occurance we refer to as commerce.
-When you grab my hand, I feel it, it drastically impairs my ability to perform work (which is why I'm here), and its kind of creepy, even from my perspective.
-When your children say that they saw someone in the cooler, they did. they're not just making it up or really stoned or anything. Most large grocery stores have someone behind the milk all day. This person can be seen by children, not to mention adults. So when you tell them that they didn't really see anything, you're LYING to them.
-On that note, yes, occasionally I do scare the crap out of little kids on purpose. You would too. It's fun and makes my day that much more eventful.
-Yes, sometimes I do check out your wife/daughter from behind the yogurts. Once again, you would too. She's hot and you should expect that. Everyone else is doing it too. I try to keep it to a minimum, but when she's wearing that white skirt/black thong combo it's kind of hard to ignore. Get over it.
-I can't hear you. There are five really big cooling fans about ten feet behind me trying to keep my workspace a crisp 39 degrees. Thay are really fucking loud. So when we make eye contact and I ignore your question, I'm not being rude. I can't hear you. Speak louder or ask someone else.
-No, I haven't seen the commercial with the guy and the orange juice. It's on all the time? Wow. Great. I don't like TV, and the fact that you expect every stranger you meet to have seen a commercial involving my profession is kind of lame.
-When I drop a quart of milk and it lands on your head and covers you in 2%, I'm sorry. I actually didn't mean for that to happen. In fact, now I have to spend five minutes explaining it to my manager. And cleaning it up, and appologizing profusely. This is a grocery store. These things happen.
-When I knock a block of butter off of the shelf and it lands on the floor next to you, don't pretend like you didn't see it. Pick it up and put it back on the shelf. If you were issuing me my car insurance and I saw that you made a typo in my name, I'd point it out. We have to look out for each other, you and I. Besides, if you don't pick it up and put it back, I have to drop what I'm doing, leave the cooler, walk a freaking quarter mile to the sales floor, fix it, and go all the way back. This takes me about a minute. It takes you 5 seconds. I might even say thank you and give you a nice smile. Think of it as good karma.
-If I CAN hear you, I might be able to tell you where the polenta is, but I cannot show you where it is. And all of the other customers think you are yelling at the buttermilk. One of my coworkers would be happy to take you to the polenta, ask them.
-I'm working. Please do not expect to have a lengthy conversation, especailly considering the previously mentioned HUGE FUCKING FANS immediately behind me. If I wanted to talk to you, I'd come out of the cooler and warm up a little bit. Please do not be offended if I continue working. I wouldn't expect you to stop auditing my taxes to chat about the weather when you were way behind on your workload, which I generally am.
-Last but not least, please for the love of God stop telling me how weird it is that I'm putting the orange juice on the shelf. It's not weird, it's totally normal. How do you think all of this shit got here??? It's not magic, it's me. And, if you can't deal with that you're obviously suffering from some weird psychological inablity to deal with reality (and everyday grocery store life, which is by the way, fairly normal).
Thank you to all of you cheerful, respectful customers! You make my day better!