"Excuse Me, Do You Work Here?"

I'm working at a small pharmacy in Montreal, counting pills or stocking shelves or any of the other countless tasks that I do as a pharmacy lab technician, when you come up behind me and loudly ask, "Excuse me, do you work here?" It's loud and sudden enough that I feel my heart racing in fear, and you are staring at me in an almost accusing manner.

"Yes, yes I do," I respond, while waiting for my heart rate to slow a little.

"Well then, do you have Tylenol?" you ask, as though I am the enemy, she who has been contemptuously hiding your salvation from you behind my back.

"It's right behind you." Now that I no longer fear getting attacked in, of all places, a pharmacy, all of the responses I COULD have given pop into my head:

"Do you work here?"

"No, I wear this lab coat as a fashion statement."

Because, indeed, while you were sneaking up from behind and scaring the living crap out of me, you neglected to notice the white, oversized lab coat which makes me look like the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man (you know, if he lost a ton of weight and used his skin as some horrifying garment). The same lab coat that every employee is required to wear, in just about every pharmacy ever.. You also didn't notice how I was stocking shelves, which is typically not an activity of someone who is just visiting the store for fun.

Instead, you likely blew a gasket in the ten minutes it took you to force the question from your craw like a burst of smelly flatulence:

"DO YOU WORK HERE?!?"

"No, I'm only here for the air conditioning."

Wouldn't an "Excuse me?" have made much more sense rather than shouting out the obvious? And, better yet, lowered your voice by at least a few decibels? Is it complicated to distinguish me, in my big, white lab coat, from all of the other clients milling in the aisles? Do I look like a velociraptor?

"Do you work here?"

"No, I am an undercover spy who has to infiltrate the local gang chapter by re-stocking this shelf until one of them breaks and comes in to buy bandages. Then, I will take out the hand grenade that I have skillfully hid in my large coat pocket here, but it won't hurt him too much. Really, it will only stop him from running away. Then I can apprehend him, and take him back to the lair with all of the other spies, who will waterboard him into oblivion. Oh, but we'll have to cut off one of his ears and send it to his boss, and hopefully one of his other minions will break and tell us everything. Then, I can come back here and continue stocking the bandage section until the next gang member wanders in. By the way, I require a human shield before I throw this grenade. Do you mind not moving? That would be great. Oh, and I do work here."

Moron.