There does not appear to be any loader droids in the front display, here. You see a pretty wide variety there, from squat, domed astromechs and spindly medical bots and bulky maintenance droids.
One of the droids actually steps from the display.
"Hello sir," it asks in a gravely voice. "How can I be of assistance today?"
"I am certain that we possess the droid you are looking for," the droid responds. "May I inquire as to whom I have the pleasure of addressing, good sir? For I am V-2PO, human-cyborg negotiator and purveyor of automatons."
This protocol droid is painted a rustic green, unlaquered and unpolished. One of his optic sensors shines less brightly than the other, and one of his arms looks bulky and out of place. Otherwise, picture C-3PO.
"Come this way, sirs," V-2PO shuffles into his warehouse.
It so happens that V-2PO has a loader droid that fits your specifications. He has quite a few actually, but most are for lighter cargo shipping rather than truly heavy lifting.
The loader droid is an older model. It is painted blue with signs of rusting and damage that has been somewhat repaired. It is easily your height and half again. It sees through a singular photosensor on a stalk. It stands on four crab-like legs, and has two oversized piston-powered arms with telescoping claw hands.
"It is called N1218 of the N-Series Loader droids produced by the Corellians," V-2PO explains. "It is very sturdy and obedient."
"Be my guest," V-2PO offers. "I am programmed to perform maintenance on over six thousand types of droids. If this is not satisfactory, I permit you to examine my wares in your own time."
"I'll do that then," Emso says, sizing up the droid. "Are you going to keep him in the hold?"
N1218 blankly stares ahead; your salesdroid has him powered down.